


Murphy's Law

by Cam719, westwingfanfictioncentral_archivist



Category: The West Wing
Genre: Angst, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-11-14
Updated: 2008-11-14
Packaged: 2019-05-15 04:28:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 26,402
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14783592
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cam719/pseuds/Cam719, https://archiveofourown.org/users/westwingfanfictioncentral_archivist/pseuds/westwingfanfictioncentral_archivist
Summary: Sequel to Cardinal Rules. Sam's campaign comes back to haunt him.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> A copy of this work was once archived at National Library, a part of the [ West Wing Fanfiction Central](https://fanlore.org/wiki/West_Wing_Fanfiction_Central), a West Wing fanfiction archive. More information about the Open Doors approved archive move can be found in the [announcement post](http://archiveofourown.org/admin_posts/8325).

“No.” 

“What do you mean, ‘no’?” 

“You have a 760 verbal and you can’t define ‘no’?” I ask. “Soon, Noah will be able to help you with that.” 

“Nice.” He scoffs at me. Married for just a year and he’s scoffing at me. 

“Don’t be scoffing at me, Joshua. I told you in no uncertain terms that having me working as Sam’s Legislative Director was not going to mean a blank check for you and the President.” 

“Yeah, but I thought you were joking.” He whines. 

“I wasn’t. If you want to get a read on Sam’s view of 234, make an appointment or call him.” I insist. 

“Why can’t you do that for me?” He teases. At least he better be teasing. 

“Because unlike my position with the Deputy Chief of Staff, my new job duties don’t include setting up phone calls or appointments.” 

“Maybe so, but you don’t get to work with me 24/7 either. Where there’s an up there’s always a down, Donnatella.” He smirks. 

“Some might think that more responsibilities AND not having to work with you 24/7 is a win/win.” I propose. 

“But not you, right? You’ve always appreciated my finer points.” 

“You have finer points? And you never told me?” I accuse. 

“That’s it.” Josh takes two menacing steps toward me before tackling me to the couch. “You are going to pay for that.” He promises. 

If this is how he makes me pay for misbehavior, remind me to mouth off more often. His mouth is ruthless on mine and his hands…yes, right there is perfect! Josh Lyman is on a mission. And from the looks of it, it’s going to be successfully completed. 

He moves to pull my shirt over my head, and I slap his hands away. 

“Hold on, let me catch up.” I laughingly protest. 

“Don’t have time for that.” He mutters and continues to disrobe me. 

“I hate to be a bucket of cold water here, but these activities have been very rushed lately.” I point out. 

“That’s because our son has a warped sense of humor and every time his father gets this close to his mother, he decides to demand our attention.” He hurriedly explains. I chuckle because it’s kind of true. 

“All the more reason to take our time right now.” I reach down to grasp him firmly in my hand. “He’s just eaten and he’s sound asleep.” 

“So you say.” He rolls his eyes. “I’m not taking any chances.” To prove his point he pulls off the rest of my clothes with all due speed. But when we’re skin to skin on the couch he slows down enough to stop and smell the roses so to speak. He runs his hands from the top of my head down my throat, my breasts and my stomach, where he pauses to tickle me. 

“That’s not going to get you where you want to be.” I whisper and I feel more than hear him chuckle. 

“God, you’re so beautiful.” He tells me as he strokes my skin like a potter strokes clay. I feel completely adored right now even though my body has changed a bit since I had a baby. 

“That’s what I’m talking about.” I encourage. 

“Maybe less talking altogether?” He suggests. 

I nod my agreement and bring his head back up to mine to show him with my lips just what his words mean to me. I just revel in this connection we have; physically, emotionally, and spiritually. I’ll be honest. Part of me worried about keeping this electricity alive once we were married and had Noah. You hear couples complain about it all the time. Judging by the panting breath we’re both using to try to keep oxygen in our bodies, we don’t have to worry about that quite yet. 

My husband has incredible skills, and some of them are in political strategy, but right now I’m enjoying his interpersonal skills. Yes, I know, many people who’ve worked with Josh over the years would laugh at the idea of him having ANY interpersonal skills, let alone amazing interpersonal skills, but I assure you he has them. 

“I need you, Donnatella…” he whispers in my ear before he lightly bites my earlobe and it sends shivers up and down my spine. Amazing. 

“I need you too, Joshua.” I admit and his eyes meet mine for one golden moment and then… 

“Wahhhhh!” Noah’s loud and insistent cry comes over the baby monitor. 

“No.” Josh shakes his head in denial and pulls me back from my instinctive move to our son. “No. Wait. He’s just startled. He’ll go right back to sleep.” 

With great restraint, I lie quiet and still below my husband; both of us waiting with baited breath to see what will happen next. 

Noah continues to bellow in a manner that I completely attribute to his father. Sighing, I try to push Josh off of me to answer Noah. 

“NO!” Josh protests, but his loud voice only makes Noah cry louder; if that’s possible. 

“Josh, he’s really crying! Something could be wrong.” I rationalize and manage to push him aside. 

“Donna…” He whines. I send him a scathing look. Does he really think that I’m not bothered by this interruption? That I wouldn’t prefer to finish this particular activity? 

Isn’t this just how it always goes? Finally, my schedule, Josh’s schedule, and Noah’s schedule align so that I can have hot and heavy sex with my dashing husband and the baby picks THAT MOMENT to demand attention; Murphy’s Law. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 

“You can’t possibly be considering voting for that bill!” I demand. “You can’t believe that’s the right thing to do!” 

“I am NOT discussing work here. I am here to spend quality time with my Godson.” Sam insists. Right. 

“Noah can’t understand why you’d even be considering such a stupid move.” I offer. 

“I’ll be happy to discuss my thinking with him when he makes an appointment and comes in to my office.” Sam brushes me off and tosses Noah lightly in the air. The move makes me a little jealous, and I think Sam knows it, which is why he’s choosing to do it now. “You are getting SO BIG, pal.” 

“He really is. He’s starting to do the ‘da-da-da’ thing.” I tell him. 

“Really? That’s so cool!” Sam beams like he taught it to Noah himself. “Can you say ‘da-da-da’?” 

“Pretty soon he’ll be speaking in complete sentences.” 

“Frankly, being that he’s a product of you and Donna, I’m shocked he’s not doing that already.” Sam teases. 

“We’re starting him off with note cards.” I quip. 

“How’s the baby sign going?” Sam asks. He only brings this up to snark me too. He knows it was Donna’s idea and I was against it. He also knows that it’s worked great for Noah. So really this is just another chance to rub my nose in it. Maybe Sam is more of a natural in politics than I originally suspected. 

“Great. It’s going great. I’m going to teach him to sign asshole whenever we meet a Republican.” I announce. 

“I heard that Joshua!” My wife calls from the other room. The woman has ears like a bat, I swear. I’d hoped that having Ainsley in the kitchen with Donna would at least mean she’d be distracted enough that she couldn’t listen to Sam and me in the living room. She gave me a strict ‘no talking to Sam about HR234’ speech before he and Ainsley came over. At least I didn’t get caught doing that…yet. 

“Let’s see what you can do, pal. Who’s this?” Sam points to me and Noah smiles and signs ‘father’. “Awesome! You’re so smart. You get that from your mom.” As soon as Sam says Mom, Noah urgently signs for his mother, quickly followed by the sign for ‘eat’. 

“I’m hungry too, pal.” I assure him and call for Donna. “Hey, the men in here are starving!” 

“Then they can get their butts in here and set the table.” She fires back without hesitation. I just had to marry a woman with a rapid fire response, didn’t I? 

Sam, who’d stopped the tossing of my son into the air, got his hair pulled by Noah to get his attention before signing ‘more’. 

“More, huh?” Sam laughs. “I guess we’d better get this out of our system BEFORE you eat.” Sam tosses him again and Noah full out belly laughs. I will NEVER get tired of that sound, I swear. “His signing is really picking up.” 

Donna, the queen of research, learned that lots of kids were using ‘baby sign’ as early as 6 months because their fine motor skills developed a lot sooner than their speech skills. Basically, they can move their hands really well before they can manage to put sounds together to create words. I argued that our child would have no such disadvantage, but Donna insisted. 

“He knows; more, wait, want, all done, bed, please, thank you, crackers, drink, stop, no, and of course mom and dad.” I recite proudly. It really is great that he can tell us what he needs. It saves a lot of frustration all the way around. 

“Tell him his new word.” Donna suggests as she and Ainsley come in. 

“I’m not convinced he really know that one yet.” I hedge and Donna just smirks at me. Either I cough it up or she’s going to. “We THINK he might know D-O-G.” I spell out. 

“Dog?” Sam confirms and Noah’s eyes get big and he starts patting his leg; which is the baby sign for dog. 

“Great. Now look what you’ve done.” I point to Noah who is repeatedly signing, ‘want dog’. “Now we’re going to have to take him to the dog park after dinner.” 

“I’ve missed something.” Ainsley notes. 

“DONNA took him to the D-O-G park last week and ever since then he’s been begging for a D-O-G whenever he hears the word or sees a…you know…that particular animal.” I explain. I do not want a dog. We do not need a dog. Dogs are a huge pain in the ass and with Donna and I both working, it’s just a bad idea all the way around. 

“A dog?” Sam asks again just to get Noah all revved up. Sam is far more devious than I ever gave him credit for. Noah, reacting like one of Pavlov’s dogs, signs ‘want dog’ and even throws in a ‘please’. 

“Samuel, cut it out.” Ainsley chastises him. I’m still not entirely comfortable with a Republican in my house or dating my best friend, but she is able to cut him off at the knees, so the relationship does have an upside for me. 

“First dinner, then dog park, Noah.” Donna signs and says and the child pouts a bit but holds his arms up for her to take him to dinner. 

Dinner with a baby is normally a messy affair, but tonight spaghetti is on the menu, so it’s sure to be a disaster. Noah loves to eat spaghetti. He also loves to throw spaghetti and watch it stick to stuff. The kid’s got a wicked right arm. I can hear the Mets fans now, chanting: No-ah, No-ah, No-ah! 

Until that day however, anyone who’s smart keeps their distance from Noah Lyman on spaghetti night, which is why I object when Donna places him next to me. 

“Oh, come on.” I complain pointing to Noah’s proximity to my chair. 

“It was Noah’s choice.” Donna replies primly. “He wanted to sit by Daddy.” She shrugs her shoulders like she has nothing to do with this. “Of course had it been my choice, I might have chosen to seat him there simply because you ignored my only request for the evening.” 

Shit. I guess she did hear me talking to Sam about 234. I decide to cut my losses and sit down for dinner. 

After we eat, and I take a quick shower to clean up from the spaghetti toss-a-thon, Sam and I take Noah to the dog park. Noah, predictably, goes nuts over every four legged, smelly piece of fur in the place. Watching him giggle and pet the animals, I know I’m doomed. It’s only a matter of time before I give in and get him a dog. 

“God, he looks at you like that, you’d have to do anything for him, wouldn’t you?” Sam asks. 

“Yep, pretty much.” I agree. “So if I got HIM to ask for your vote on 234…” 

“Josh…” Sam sighs in exasperation. It’s an important bill and I can’t figure out his hesitation. 

“You can’t tell me you’re not in favor of this.” I insist. 

“The people in my district aren’t.” He counters. 

“They elected you to exercise your best judgment.” I remind him. 

“They didn’t elect me, they rejected Webb, and I’m here to represent them.” 

Ah. I get this now. Sam was not happy with the turn of events that resulted in his win in the 47th. He wanted the people to vote for him because of what he believes in; which was NEVER going to happen in the 47th I can assure you. Instead, the people rejected Webb when they discovered he was an adulterous bribe recipient. Although to be honest, in the 47th, the adultery issue probably wasn’t what tipped it over the edge. 

In any case, Sam is occasionally riddled with the question of whether to follow his own ideology or what he believes to be the ideology of his district on certain issues. In most people, I’d accuse them of playing ‘polling politics’; following the latest polls from home in order to secure re-election. In Sam though, it’s simply his conscience rearing its’ head. Webb’s kid, Aaron, has been making the news again lately and not in a good way; blaming Sam, the media, me, everyone but his father for the events that happened during the special election. It’s taking an obvious toll on Sam. 

“Sam. Regardless of the circumstances surrounding the election, you were elected.” 

“Yeah, and I have to constantly work to figure out how to best represent the people who sent me here.” He replies hotly. “Look, I don’t want to discuss this now. Can we just play with Noah and enjoy a beautiful spring night?” 

“We only have a couple weeks before the Memorial Day recess.” I object. 

“Thanks, Josh, because me and my legislative director have never really figured out a calendar.” He snarks. “And speaking of Donna, will you please leave her out of this? You’re just going to end up pissing us both off.” 

“Hello, I’m Josh Lyman. Have we met? I piss off all the Members of Congress and their assistants.” I remind him. 

“Noah, look at that dog.” Sam ignores me. “Let’s go play with him.” Sam picks up Noah and takes him over to pet a yippy little terrier of some kind. He sits on the ground with my son and I watch the little beast jump all over them; barking and licking their faces. Noah squeals in delight and Sam can’t help but join in. I am so screwed. 

Wouldn’t you freaking know it? Huge piece of legislation the President is determined to get through Congress. I promise him we can do it. Mid-terms are starting to rear their ugly head so this battle has become center stage. The press is all over it and I’m currently 6 votes down. My best friend, who employs my wife as his legislative director, may end up being a critical vote here, and he decides that now is the time to get a case of Congressional Conscience; Murphy’s Law. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 

“Donna.” 

“Dear God, will you please drop it?” I shout and see Noah startle. “Sorry, baby. Mommy’s sorry. It’s just that your dad has me so angry.” 

“Don’t blame me when I’m trying to be reasonable here.” He shoots back. 

“Reasonable? You can’t even spell reasonable. Your filibusters are annoying enough in the office, during working hours, but at home they’re infuriating and they have to stop.” I explain…again. It occurs to me that his stubbornness is one of the qualities that make him such an effective DCOS. In a husband, however, it is far from ideal. 

“You can’t look me in the eye and tell me you’re against this legislation can you?” He challenges me and I sigh, because of course I can’t. But that’s not the point. 

“I’m not voting for or against this bill, Josh. I simply give Sam the information he needs to make an informed decision and advise him of the repercussions of his vote in either direction.” As if he doesn’t know that already! 

“And one of the repercussions of voting ‘nay’ is going to be a distinct chill from the White House. He understands that right?” Josh says sarcastically. 

“Yes, Joshua, having worked for Congressmen, with Congressmen, and as a Congressmen, I’m pretty confident that he grasps that implication.” 

“Then advise him, in your official capacity as Legislative Director, that it is in his best interests as well as in the best interests of his country to vote ‘yea’.” It’s just so simple when you’re Josh Lyman, you see. 

“Stop talking to me like you know how to do my job better than I do.” I insist. 

“I DO know how to do your job better than you do.” He grumbles. 

“EXCUSE ME?” My laser beam focus whips over to him and his smart mouth. “I do this job very well, thank you very much, on top running this household, taking care of an infant and keeping your unorganized (I cover Noah’s ears) ASS on top of work and social obligations.” 

“Donna-“ 

“Don’t you get superior about my work! In fact, don’t ever speak to me about work again! If I’m such an idiot about political matters don’t speak to me about them. Don’t speak to me at all!” I have lost it, I know, but all week he’s been nagging and nagging about this damn bill. I get that it’s important to him and to the President. I get that he’s under tremendous pressure. Hell, I worked right there in the pressure cooker with him didn’t I? 

“If cutting off communication with the White House is the strategy you’re advising your boss to follow, good luck to both of you on staying employed.” 

“You. Are not. The White House.” I point out. 

“The hell I’m not. I swear to God, Donna, sometimes you just don’t even realize the damage you’re doing.” He hits the wall with his open hand and Noah and I both jump. 

“I swear to God, Josh, neither do you.” I take Noah upstairs with me to finish getting ready and I hear the door slam as my husband leaves without saying goodbye to either of us. I’ve got to blow this off and get to work. Josh and I will work this out later. There will be plenty of time later. 

TBC


	2. Murphy's Law

Oh crap! Oh crap! Oh crap! Oh crap! 

Thank God I work for Sam because I can’t believe I’m late for work AGAIN! How is it that this harmless little baby can take a very punctual woman and turn her into the one that’s always late? 

Maybe it’s not his fault. I was rushing around trying to get out the door on time for once in my new life and spilled coffee all down the front of my shirt so I had to change. So then, I have to haul ass over to the day care, which is nowhere near either the White House or the Hill, but though Josh will deny it at every turn, he’s a snob and Noah goes to a private day care that caters only to politician’s ridiculous hours. 

So, it’s Murphy’s Law, right? I’m driving like a bat out of hell, and of course I get pulled over and no matter how much I pouted and cried, still got the stupid ticket. I considered invoking Josh’s name, but he definitely would have flipped his lid over that one, not like he’s not flipping out anyway right now. 

So, now I’m running pell mell into the Rayburn Building. I fly through security so fast I set off the metal detectors. 

I give up. 

“Mrs. Lyman.” George, one of the guards, says crooking his finger at me. I sigh heavily and walk defeated back to security, take my shoes off, send my stuff through the x-ray machine and just give up the fight. I’m late. 

Sam’s got a pretty booked up schedule this morning and I really wanted to be in by now. One of those people booking up his schedule this morning is my husband who has, and I quote, “Made a stupid ass appointment to talk about 234 officially even though Matt and Chris never make me make a fricking appointment when I need to talk to them about something and don’t cry about discussing work outside of work, but because I love you Donnatella and Sam is my best friend, I’ll follow your dumb rules, but don’t expect me to like it.” 

Sigh. 

As I make my way through the corridors, I pull up Sam’s schedule on my Blackberry. Josh is meeting with a few other errant members of Congress before Sam, so it’ll be a little while before he gets to our office. I’ve got some time to come up with a good defense for the speeding ticket. He’s been here for a while already, otherwise he usually drops Noah off. This also gives me ample time to cool down over this morning’s fight. Sometimes, he just has absolutely no idea how hurtful he can be. 

I enter the office and smile at the rest of the staff, who are all giving me the “Oh, there’s Donna, late again, but it’s okay because she gets special treatment” look. Whatever. 

My phone’s ringing off the hook. Guess no one decided to cover it in my absence. These guys are going to end up learning the value of teamwork the hard way. 

“Congressman Seaborn’s office.” 

“I was wondering if you could tell me if the Congressman is making any public appearances in the next few days.” 

Odd. 

“No, I don’t believe he is. His full schedule for the month is posted on our website, but there are no official public appearances scheduled in the immediate future.” I reply. 

“Can you tell me if he’s still in Washington or if he’s returned to California?” 

“Congress is in session, sir, he’s in Washington.” 

“Thank you, ma’am.” 

I return the phone to its cradle and move to hang up my coat. One look at the clock tells me that Sam should be off the floor now and the closed circuit t.v. is showing things breaking up, so I grab my pad, Blackberry and notebook and haul ass out. I’m standing at the door when he comes out. 

“It’s really creepy the way you do that.” he greets me. “Did this freak Josh out, too?” 

“Always.” 

“He said you used to watch for him out the window.” 

“You don’t have a window that shows the floor.” 

“He also used to think you hid a locator chip on him so you’d know when he was in motion.” 

Is he kidding me!? This could be fun. 

“What makes you think there wasn’t?” I deadpan. Sam’s eyes go wide. “I mean, he’s highly placed in the government. The NSA likes to keep tabs on the senior staff.” 

Sam looks at me for a moment, trying to decide if there could be any shred of truth to what I’m saying. “Nope.” He says, shaking his head. “You may be able to get Josh when you deliver something with your serious face, but I’m not as enamored with you as he is. I’m onto your conniving ways.” 

“All right, Sam.” I shrug as if I could care less whether or not he believes the senior staff is under constant electronic surveillance. 

“Whachya got here?” He asks pointing to my Blackberry. 

“Oh, your schedule.” 

“Why are you doing it with me? Isn’t that not remotely in the purview of the leg. director?” 

“Laura’s on maternity leave. We’re all covering for her.” I say and begin to rattle it off as Sam’s eyes glaze over. 

“Josh is coming at 11:30…” 

“Hold on.” Sam says stopping. “Josh is coming here?” 

“Yes.” 

“Because of 234?” 

“Yes.” 

“He actually made an appointment?” 

“Those are the rules.” 

“But he, you know, followed them?” 

“I withheld sex.” 

“You did?” 

“No.” I smile. “But I did put my foot down.” 

“Damn. I can’t believe you got me anyway.” He says and begins to walk again. 

“Sam?” I ask. 

“Yeah.” 

“Just out of curiosity, I mean between you and me.” I begin. 

“You want to know why I’m not voting for it.” 

“It’s a good law.” 

“I agree.” 

“So?” 

He stops again. “The people of Orange County don’t want it, Donna.” He says. “They didn’t want me either, but they wanted Webb even less, so the least I can do is respect their wishes while I’m here.” 

“Sam, sometimes you also have to do what’s right for the American people, too, especially if you ever want to go further in your career. If you ever want to run for the senate, you’d have to do what’s right for the people of California, too.” I say. 

He looks at me thoughtfully for a minute then resumes walking. “Maybe.” He concedes. “But right now, I want to do what the people of Orange County sent me here to do. If they re-elect me, then we’ll talk about the people of California.” 

“All right.” I say. 

“Yeah?” 

“I’ve got other things to talk to you about anyway.” 

“Like what?” 

“The delightful Ainsley Hayes.” I smile. 

“Donna…” he tries to use a warning tone, but I know Sam too well. 

“You guys have been together for a while now.” 

“Six months.” 

“That’s a while for you.” 

“Thanks!” 

“I’m just saying.” 

“I know; you’re right.” 

“So?” 

“So what?” 

“Are you going to ask her to marry you or what?” 

His eyes bug out of his head and he looks over at me. “She’s a republican!” 

“So’s the Governor of California, but he married into the biggest Democratic family that ever existed.” 

“She’s a Republican. Her father is a Republican. Her grandfather was State Chairman of the North Carolina Republican Party.” 

“Yeah, I know all that.” I say. 

“Ainsley would never go for it.” 

“She loves you.” 

“Not enough to tarnish her family name by marrying a Democrat.” 

“I’m just saying, it’s been done before.” 

“But that was before he was the Governor of California.” 

“Yeah, this is the Kennedy family we’re talking about here. The guy still had to do Christmas at Uncle Ted’s house.” 

“Why are we even talking about this?” 

“I like to see you happy and I think you should ask Ainsley to marry you.” 

“Duly noted.” He laughs. 

“She’d make a great aunt for Noah.” 

“She already does.” 

“Well, Christmas isn’t all that far off and that’d be a great time…” 

I’m cut off from my sales pitch to Sam by the unmistakable sound of gun fire above. Sam dives on top of me and we hit the marble floor with a very unpleasant crunch. I think that was once my wrist. There’s screaming and more gun fire, and I’ve passed by wondering what the hell is going on and moved to the only thought that really matters. 

My husband is in this building somewhere. 

TBC


	3. Murphy's Law

“So we have an understanding then?” I ask. 

“If by understanding you mean I vote for 234 if I have a hope in hell of being re-elected, then yes…I guess we do.” Congressman Wallen responds dejectedly. Good. I’m glad we’ve got that straightened out. 4 down, 2 to go…including one Sam Seaborn…who I had to MAKE AN APPOINTMENT to see. What a joke! I nod at Wallen and give him my best ‘don’t make me come down here again’ face and head out the door. 

Okay, I can get that Sam wants to keep personal and professional separate…well, maybe not, but I can get it in theory. What really bothers me here is that my wife, who knows all the buttons to push with me, is prepping Sam for this meeting. She’s going to help him screw me and the President over here. My only saving grace is that her most effective weapons are the kind Sam can’t use. As long as Donna isn’t naked at this meeting, I’ll have 50/50 shot at coming out on top. 

We had serious words about it today. I may have said a few things that…upset her. But she said a few things that upset me too! I hate that we’re on opposite sides of this thing. I hate when we’re on opposite sides of anything, but this time seems especially bad. 

“Joshua!” Comes a voice from behind me. “You haven’t darkened my door in too long.” 

“That’s because I’m too busy herding Democrats to bother with Republican lost causes.” I return. Matt Skinner may be one of my very favorite Republicans, but that doesn’t mean I have to show it. 

“We may not all be as lost a cause as you think.” He tells me and my eyebrows shoot up. 

“Do tell.” 

“I can’t right now, I have a conference call in my office.” He points down the hallway from Sam’s office toward his. As if I don’t know where it is. “Can you stop by later?” He asks. Hell, yes, if it means another vote on 234. 

“I’ve got an appointment with Sam in 20 minutes and then I’m hoping to take my beautiful wife to lunch.” I explain. “After 1?” 

“Caucus meeting. 4:00?” 

“Done.” I agree and start to walk away; visions of a bi-partisan bill dancing in my head. 

“Wait! You have to make an appointment with Sam?” He shouts back at me and laughs, the bastard. 

“It’s a courtesy that I extend to Democratic Congressional-" 

“Right. Your WIFE is making you make an appointment!” Matt continues to laugh. 

“I’m respecting a friend and colleague’s time by-" 

“I hope you’re not letting Noah see who runs things in the Lyman house.” He snarks. 

“I run things in the Lyman house, my friend, and to prove it I’m going down to the cafeteria to get full octane coffee to bring to my meeting with my wife and Sam; against her explicit instructions, I’ll have you know.” I yell back. 

“Thank God you draw the line there, Joshua. That’ll show her who’s boss.” Matt laughs again. He’s in a very good mood today, it seems. “See you at 4!” And off he goes. Matt Skinner, ladies and gentlemen, he’ll be playing here all week. 

I decide to turn my blatant lie into a form of the truth and head down to get some coffee before I meet with Donna and Sam. It won’t be high octane though, I’m not stupid. Donna’s already supremely pissed at me and she can sniff that stuff out at 50 paces. I pour myself a large cup and decide that two can play at this game. Donna and Sam know me very well, but the reverse is also true. 

I take a circuitous route through the Rayburn Building while I work out my strategy but I still arrive at Sam’s office a few minutes early and a little out of breath from the climb up to the fourth floor office. 

“I’m here for my APPOINTMENT with Congressman Seaborn.” See? All nice and professional. 

“And your name is?” The perky little girl behind the desk asks. I rear back in horror. How the hell can this child not know- 

“Lisa, this is Josh Lyman. He’s the White House Deputy Chief of Staff.” Lynn Brown explained to the pinhead. “He’s also married to our Legislative Director.” 

“Donna Moss?” Lisa confirms. 

“Donna Moss-Lyman.” I clarify even though it only says Donna Moss on her business cards…some nonsense about not being associated with me on the hill. 

“Lisa is helping us out in an intern position, Mr. Lyman. She’ll know you next time you come in.” Lynn glosses over the name thing, but I still noticed. “Congressman Seaborn and Donna are on their way back right now, but they’re running a little late. Why don’t you go on inside his office and wait for them there?” 

“Fine. Thanks.” I turn to do as she suggests when the pinhead pipes up. 

“Would you like some coffee, Mr. Lyman?” I turn a disbelieving look at the girl and Lynn just shrugs her shoulders. I lift the coffee cup I’m clearly holding in my hand right in front of her face. “Oh. Maybe a muffin then?” 

“Sure.” I say magnanimously. “A muffin would be fine.” This kids not going to last a week. Donna will chew her up and spit her out before dinner. 

I make my way into Sam’s pristine office and make myself comfortable at his desk. There really must be something wrong with someone who is this organized. Then I remember that it’s probably Donna’s doing and I get angry all over again. She really ought to be in my office doing this stuff. Then we wouldn’t be having these knock down drag outs about legislation. 

Pinhead comes in with my muffin and looks startled to see me sitting on the other side of the desk looking at Sam’s memos. 

“I…brought you your muffin. Does Congressman Seaborn let you sit there?” She walks around the desk and places the muffin strategically over the memo. Rookie move. 

“He wanted me to look over some things for him.” I lie without hesitation. “Where have you come from Lisa?” 

“I live in Congressman Seaborn’s district.” She tells me. That explains a lot. Suddenly, there is a loud noise and a scream. I stand up and freeze. 

“Mr. Lyman-“ Lisa begins but I silence her with hand to her shoulder and my fingers to my lips. 

Sometimes things happen in Congressional offices. Angry constituents, or even other members, can get out of control and the Capitol police have to be dispatched to settle things down. Since security issues have increased, each office comes equipped with a panic button to alert them to any such problem. Whatever is happening in the outer office is loud and angry, but Lynn is level headed and experienced. She’ll get to the panic button and the police will be here in seconds to break it up; no harm, no foul. 

Holy Shit! Two shots are fired and there’s more screaming. I grab pinhead and duck under the desk. We’re both sitting underneath it, shaking like leaves. 

“What- what-" Lisa can’t get a sentence out and I’m not any better. My heart is racing and I can’t tell if the sirens I’m hearing are real or imaginary. Then a horrible thought occurs to me. Was Sam out there just then? Was Donna? Lynn said they were together. 

“I want Sam Seaborn RIGHT NOW!” A voice shouts from the outer office. Okay, good bet Sam and Donna aren’t there now, but they’re still on their way. I have to warn them. Cell phones. I can text her on the cell phone. 

I try to manage my shaking hand enough to get the cell phone out of my pocket and bobble it on to the floor. Lisa picks it up and hands it back to me and that’s when I notice she’s crying. I rub her shoulder for a second but the sirens come back and I have to shake them off. I open the phone and it takes my trembling fingers a few minutes before I can text a message to Donna telling her to stay the hell away from the office and hit send. Please just get out. Please. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

He has to make an appointment with Sam! God, wait until I share that with a few select members of our club. Mike Casper, in particular, is going to love that! 

I pick up the phone and connect to the conference call, then prepare to be bored. Lots of ‘governing’ involves boring planning sessions that amount to very little action being taken. 

So…my mind wanders a bit. Mostly to Josh and Donna. Josh has been seen around this building a lot more since Donna came to work for Sam. If anyone had ever told me how Josh would become this husband and family fan, fawning over his wife and son, I’d have never believed it. But then he’s always had a soft spot for Donna, and her for him. God, after the shooting she practically moved in with him and took over every aspect of his life. There aren’t many people that could get away with that, but Donna was one of them. 

It’s reassuring to see them so happy together. The kid is adorable and has both of his parents wrapped around his finger. I was worried that they wouldn’t get this happy ending when they were being bombarded by the press when their relationship first came out. But look at them now. It’s all good. 

When I hear the first crash, I’m annoyed but I pretty much ignore it. Doors slam and things get broken a lot in this building. Then the yelling starts and my inner alarm fires up. More out of precaution than anything else, I get off my call and call the capitol police to come over. It sounds like it’s ramping up instead of gearing down. That’s when the shots ring out. Damn! 

I rush out into the hall and someone shouts that it came from Sam’s office. That’s when it hits me; Josh is in there. My friend who has already lived through one shooting is being treated to a sequel. 

“Get on the phone to the White House.” I tell my assistant. “Tell them Josh Lyman is in Sam Seaborn’s office where shots have been fired. And get the same message to Mike Casper at the F.B.I.” 

I’m not sure that I’m thinking clearly but all I can focus on is getting to Josh. Someone has to help Josh. I burst into Sam’s office suite and its pandemonium. Several people are on the floor crying and a young man dressed in a delivery uniform is waving a gun around wildly. He swings it toward me. 

“Shut the door and get in here.” He orders. 

I shut the door and hold my hands out in front of me. “Okay, calm down. There are lots of innocent people here and we don’t want anyone to get hurt, right?” 

“Shut up. I want Sam Seaborn out here right now.” This guy’s eyes look crazed. Is he on something? 

“Sam’s not here.” Lynn, Sam’s executive assistant speaks up. “I told you that.” 

“Bullshit. He left the floor and had a meeting back here right after. Get him out here!” The guy motions to Sam’s inner door and Lynn’s eyes go wide. Sam may or may not be in that office, but since I don’t see Josh out here, I’ll bet my last dollar that Josh is in there. 

“Lynn keeps really good track of Sam.” I try to reason. “If she says he’s not here, I’m sure he’s not.” 

“OPEN THE DAMN DOOR!” He turns the gun back to Lynn. Shit. 

“I’ll open it.” I volunteer and hear Lynn whimper. “I’ll do it. I’ll go right over and open it and you can see for yourself that nobody’s there.” I announce as loudly as I can. Please hide Josh. Hide quickly. I’ve got to stall. 

“How did you get a gun in a Federal building anyway?” I ask and turn back to him. He smiles this wicked smile before he answers. 

“Congressman Tillinghouse.” He replies. “But I did have to pry it out of his cold, dead, hand.” 

This guy already killed a Congressman? We’re dealing with a whole different level of crazy now. If I get a chance, I’m taking this guy out myself. He’s not going to be talked down. 

I make my way through the 5 or 6 people lying on the floor and slowly open the inner office door. To my relief, it appears empty. I stand in the doorway and I see something interesting on the credenza; a nice, heavy lamp. 

“See? Completely empty.” I tell the guy. “Come see for yourself. Nobody here.” 

The gunman comes closer but motions for me to move further into the room. Suits me fine as it gets me closer to the lamp. He steps inside and carefully surveys the room. Then he motions toward the private bathroom. Reluctantly, I walk over and open that door as well. Also empty. Where the hell is Josh? 

“He’s not here. It’s empty.” I walk back to stand right next to the lamp. “There are a lot of scared people out there. Obviously, you need to speak to Sam about something important, but he’s not here. Let’s let them leave and we can make some calls to get Sam back here.” 

“Nobody is leaving here until Sam Seaborn’s slimy face is in front of me.” He tells me and when he swings his gaze, and his gun, back toward the outer office to be sure his point was taken I grab the lamp and swing away. He goes down but he doesn’t lose his grip on his gun. While he’s dazed, he’s not unconscious and it appears all I’ve really done is piss him off. I move to take another swing and he lifts his hand and fires. 

I stop in shock; certain that he shot me but not feeling it at all. There are shouts and gasps all around me and I follow their gaze down and see the blood flowing freely. That’s when I get a little dizzy and decide to fall down. Should have left the hero shit to Mike, I guess. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 

“Mr. President?” I wish I wasn’t the one who had to break this bit of news, but at least I have Ron here for backup…or, you know, some kind of whipping boy. 

“Yeah?” He replies without looking up. “These numbers are wrong, Leo. We need to get- What’s going on?” He asks when he notices the company I’m keeping. 

“There’s been an…incident at the Rayburn building, sir. Shots were fired.” 

The President stands up in shock. “Where? Who’s hurt?” 

“Initial reports are still sketchy, sir.” Ron pipes in. “As far as we know it’s a lone gunman, but he isn’t under arrest as yet. He’s holding hostages in Sam Seaborn’s office.” 

“Is Sam-“ 

“He’s not in his office at this time. We’re not sure of his present location.” Ron reports. 

“Sir…the thing is…a witness reported that Josh was in there at the time the shots were fired. We don’t have a confirmation yet, but since the report came from Congressman Skinner…” 

The President sits back down in defeat. “Dear God, what else?” 

“There are several hostages being held and the F.B.I. is working on a rescue operation, but the location of the office; on the 4th floor and in the middle of the “H”shaped floorplan is hindering their efforts.” 

“Where’s Donna?” The President asks. 

“We haven’t been able to get her location either.” I admit. “Margaret has been trying all her numbers.” 

“Is it possible she’s in there too?” 

“We just don’t know yet, Mr. President.” Ron answers. “We haven’t been able to locate Mr. Seaborn either. But the F.B.I. is doing a thorough sweep of the building as they evacuate it. We’ll know more soon.” 

“I want reports every 15 minutes from them.” The President decides and watches Ron leave. “Get Josh’s mom on the phone, Leo. That woman isn’t going to hear anything from the TV news.” 

“Yes, sir.” I go to get the numbers he’ll need and it hits me that maybe I should be the one calling. I decide to let the President have the honors. Maybe he’ll have her calmed enough that she won’t take my head off completely…Nah, not a chance in hell of that. And the thing is? I can’t blame her either. I brought her son here; where his life, both professional and personal, have been put through the wringer. Still, I’m going to let the President have the first go. Then maybe I can be the one to call her with the ‘everyone’s fine’ news. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Give me an update.” I demand, flashing my badge. 

“I’m sorry, Agent…?” The idiot is going to put off a briefing from a superior officer while he gets my bio? 

“Casper, Mike Casper. Give me an update.” 

“I was told to report directly to-“ Poor, poor idiot doesn’t have a clue. 

“I’m telling you to report to me Officer, or do I need to get a picture book somewhere to explain the pecking order here?” I snap. He folds like a house of cards. 

“Our units have cleared the bottom three floors and are currently working on the 4th where the assailant is holding several hostages. There have been at least 3 shots fired, but we have been unable to determine whether or not anyone has been injured. We’ve tried calling into the office, but no one is picking up the line. When our people get to the office they’re going to use the bullhorn.” 

“Well, that should get everyone killed good and quick.” I mutter. “Tell your people that nobody approaches the office or attempts to make contact with the gunman, we’ll be handling it from now on.” I order. 

“And when you say ‘we’?” I hear my boss from behind me. Shit. 

“The F.B.I. sir, of course.” I turn to face him and act like it’s completely natural for me to take over an active crime scene without clearing with him. “Let me brief you, sir.” 

“I already got my briefing, Agent Casper, and you shouldn’t be within a city block of this scene.” 

“Sir, I believe I’m uniquely qualified to-“ 

“I got my briefing from the White House, Agent Casper, so I know that your good friend is in the middle of this situation. You have no objectivity here. Clear out.” 

“No, sir.” 

“Excuse me?” I might have gone too far, right there, but in for a penny…in for a pound. 

“I…respectfully refuse, sir.” I amend my remark. “I have an intimate knowledge of that building and several of the key players. It would be foolish to send that kind of resource packing when there are so many lives in danger. And you’re no fool sir, I don’t care what others say.” 

I see my boss’s cheek twitch, and I know I have him. 

“If I see one piece of evidence that you’re too personally involved-“ 

“I need 4 teams.” I turn to the men who’ve assembled around us while we debated. “Two along Independence Avenue and the other two inside the atrium with me. I want verbal confirmation when each team is in place. We’re going directly up to the 4th floor and set up command across from Seaborn’s office. We’re going to need a negotiator and tear gas at the ready.” 

“On it.” One of my colleagues replies. 

“Let’s go.” I command and start running to the building. I wasn’t there for Rosslyn. Even if I had been, it was a Secret Service operation so I wouldn’t have been able to affect the outcome, but maybe I would’ve found Josh sooner. Today, I’m going to find Josh sooner. Hang on, Josh, I’m coming. 

TBC


	4. Murphy's Law

Ow! Oh dear God the pain is blinding! I think I’m going to throw up again. 

“Here!” Sam whispers harshly. “Here’s the bucket.” 

One look inside said bucket at the contents from a few minutes ago is enough for me to vomit again. 

“How’s the wrist?” Sam winces. 

And I shoot him a glare. “Don’t ask me to do any typing for a while.” I whine as the ‘room’ comes into focus. “Where the hell are we?” 

“A cleaning supply closet on the third floor. It sounded like the shots are above us.” 

“Sam, I have to find Josh.” 

“You are NOT leaving this closet.” He orders. “There’s a gunman on the loose and we have no idea where he is!” 

“I can’t let Josh be out there by himself!” 

“Donna, I know you’re worried, and I know why you’re worried, but you know that Josh wouldn’t want you wandering around this building on your own EVEN IF I were to actually let you.” 

“That’s just it, Sam. He’s not going to be thinking like that right now. He’s probably not thinking clearly at all.” The tears are streaming down my face. “I HAVE to find him, Sam!” 

“We need to figure out how to splint that wrist first, Donna.” Sam says. “You have to keep it immobilized. You can’t go running around like that anyway. I wonder if we can make it to the first aid ward.” 

“SAM!” I hiss. “If we’re leaving this office it’s to find JOSH and not to go to some first aid room!” 

“We’re staying right here until we get the all clear.” Sam says. 

“Sam,” I continue crying. “the last thing I said to him was in anger. We were so pissed at each other. He needs me, Sam.” 

“He’ll flay me alive for letting you leave this closet.” 

My Blackberry vibrates and I look down to see Josh’s name scroll across the screen. He’s sending me a text message. 

The man is brilliant. 

“Gunman in Sam’s outer office. Shot’s fired. Am okay. Me and the intern are hiding in the secret closet.” 

“Sam!” I gasp and hold out my Blackberry. His face goes white as a sheet. 

“We have to get there.” He says resolutely and I grab him with my good hand right before he can dive out the door. 

“Don’t be an idiot, Sam!” I say. “If you weren’t letting me go; I’m not letting you go. We have to leave this to the professionals. Where’s this secret closet?” 

“I have no idea what he’s talking about.” Sam shrugs. 

“Well, then how does he know about it?” I frown looking down at my Blackberry. 

“Josh knows every nook and cranny of these buildings.” Sam says. “For all I know…oh wait! My office used to be Earl Brennan’s office.” 

“At least two of them are safe.” I say. I text him back with my good hand and hope his phone is on vibrate. ‘Don’t move. Luv u.’ 

My eyes tear up as I think of what he must be going through in there. Why is this lunatic in Sam’s office? Is he out to get Sam or is it all just chance? I want to go to Josh so bad right now. All I can think of right now is our fight. We were not saying nice things to each other. 

And I know better dammit! I know better than anyone that there may not be a tomorrow with him. I know how easily he can be taken from me, and yet, I still live each day taking for granted that I’ll have all the time in the world with him. 

My phone vibrates again. ‘Plz don’t move; luv u more.’ 

I don’t know which hurts more right now; my heart or my wrist. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 

The gun fires again and there’s multiple ear piercing screams, followed by a very loud thud. One of the screams came from directly next to me, and this is a very small enclosed place. 

“WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT?” comes a deranged bellow. “WHERE IS THAT?” 

I clamp my hand down over pinhead’s mouth as random shots are fired in Sam’s private office. The gunman is looking for Sam. I can hear the closet door open again and my breath hitches. 

“The First Noel, the angels did say…” I can hear the words in my head with the brass quintet. 

God dammit! 

The noise directly outside of our little chamber dies down a bit and I can hear Lynn crying. “Congressman! Congressman Skinner!” 

“SHUT UP!” the gunman bellows. “SHUT UP AND FIND ME SEABORN!” 

What the hell does this guy want with Sam? 

“Who is this guy?” the girl next to me cries softly. 

“No idea.” I whisper. “What’s your name again?” 

“L—Lisa.” 

“Hi, Lisa; I’m Josh.” 

“I know.” 

I almost laugh. Of course. We’ve already been through this. 

“How did you know this was here?” 

“This used to be Earl Brennan’s office and I was his Chief of Staff. He used to hide liquor, confidential papers, and on one occasion, a hooker, in here.” I whisper. My phone vibrates again. 

I look down at Donna’s response to my message. ‘Not possible.’ I feel horrible about our fight now. How could I, of all people, possibly behave that way? Especially to her! How could I take for granted that I actually DO have a lifetime with her? Especially now… when this guy is looking for Sam and she’s with him and they’re… 

‘Where r u?’ I text to her. I hope she doesn’t have any delusions about coming to find me. The brass quintet is playing in my head, but I’m still functioning on some sort of level. 

My phone vibrates. ‘cleaning supply closet; 3rd floor.’ I text back, ‘stay there; he’s looking for Sam.’ 

“I think he shot Congressman Skinner.” Lisa is crying. 

“Yeah, I think so.” I try to detach myself from the fact that my oldest friend in the world is right outside this door and probably in severe pain. I need to figure out a way to get to him. I just hope he’s still alive…. 

“FUCK!” comes a very loud yell. Yup, sounds like Matt is still alive, thank God. How do I help him without throwing two more people in the line of this lunatic? 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Shit this hurts! As long as I live, I will never call Josh a pansy again. My shoulder really fucking hurts right now. 

“It looks like it went straight through, sir.” One of Sam’s little chippys says to me. 

“I don’t remember your name,” I ground out to her. “But I don’t think you need to call me ‘sir’ right now.” 

“It’s Lynn.” She says. The gunman is moving around Sam’s office looking under the desk, in the closet… the closet! I suddenly know where Josh is. This used to be Earl Brennan’s office and Josh had a ton of stories about that secret sliding door in his closet. He told me I should get one when I moved in here. 

I look over at our captor. At least it looks like his head hurts from where I hit it with the lamp. Mike, Josh and Chris would have loved to see that. Josh always said I hit like a girl. 

Wait a minute! I know this guy. 

“You’re Chuck Webb’s kid, aren’t you?” I squint. 

“Yeah.” 

“Sorry about what happened to your dad.” 

He points his gun right at me again. I’m going to be Swiss cheese by the time this guy is done with me. 

“Don’t fucking placate me, man.” 

“Sorry!” I say quickly. 

“I’m not your fucking friend.” 

“I just knew your dad, he was a colleague of mine. We were in the same party.” 

“Yeah, well because of Seaborn he’s dead and mine and my mom’s life is ruined.” The kid spits back. “So, I’m going to get me a little retribution now.” 

“Listen,” I say as calmly as I can and propping myself up. “This place is going to be crawling with cops. It probably already is. There’s no way you’re going to find Seaborn, you should just turn yourself in. It’ll go a lot further when it comes to sentencing.” 

“I shot two United States Congressmen, in case you missed one of them!” He shouts back, like I missed the fact that my shoulder is currently ON FUCKING FIRE right now. “My sentencing, should I allow myself to be taken, is only going one way whether I turn myself in now or not. So, I’m going to take my chances finding Seaborn. And that, old friend of my dad’s, is where you are about to come in handy.” 

Because this kid is a little prick, he yanks me off the floor by my injured shoulder. I involuntarily let out a very loud yell as he drags me out of the office and into the corridor. 

The hunt for Sam is on. 

TBC


	5. Murphy's Law

“Agent Adam Sinclair, Mr. President.” I hear the assistant announce me. 

“Send him in…Agent Sinclair, what can you tell me?” 

“There have been several more shots fired in the area where the hostages are, but we haven’t been able to establish contact with the gunman yet. He’s very determined to find Mr. Seaborn, but-“ 

A ruckus outside the Chief of Staff’s door distracts us all from my report. 

“Mr. President?” Another assistant interrupts us. “Ainsley Hayes is here and would like a minute.” 

“Ainsley Hayes?” The President repeats. 

“She and Sam have become…involved.” Leo tells us, clearly wishing he didn’t have that knowledge or have to impart that knowledge to the rest of us. 

“She might as well hear this too, then.” The President decides. 

“Is there any word?” She asks as soon as she crosses the threshold. 

“Agent Sinclair, from the F.B.I. was just giving us his report.” Leo explains and gestures to me. 

“Have you found Sam?” She demands. 

“Not yet, but from what we can hear from inside his office, he is not there.” I tell her. “We are still conducting floor to floor searches, but…” I hesitate, unsure of just how much of my report can or should be shared here. 

“But…?” The President prods me. 

“We have recovered the body of Congressman Tillinghouse.” My statement causes Ms. Hayes to gasp and sit down suddenly. 

“This guy is just randomly killing members of Congress?” Leo asks. 

“No, sir, we believe Tillinghouse was targeted for a very specific reason. He kept a weapon in his office. We believe it is that weapon that’s being used in the hostage situation. From witness accounts and the yelling we’ve been able to overhear from Mr. Seaborn’s office, it’s very clear that he’s the intended target.” Ms. Hayes is crying now, and despite decades of training with the Bureau, I don’t handle weeping females well, so I simply pretend I don’t see her. 

“But you haven’t been able to identify the gunman yet?” The President asks. 

“We’re running security tapes and we’ve identified a man posing as a delivery man whose credentials turned out to be stolen. But as to his real identity…we’re still working on it.” I admit. “As soon as we know more, you’ll know more.” I promise. 

Ms. Hayes suddenly reaches into her pocket and looks at her cell phone. 

“It’s a text message from Donna Moss!” Ainsley proclaims and reads it out loud to us. “Sam and I are hiding. Both of us fine. Josh in office with gunman.” 

“Why wouldn’t they just call us if they have a phone?” The President demanded. “And why are they hiding? They should get the hell out of there.” 

“Sending and receiving a text message would be a virtually silent form of communication, sir. If they’re in hiding and don’t want to be found by the gunman looking for them, that would be the smartest way to send a message. They can’t make a run for it when they don’t know where the gunman is.” I explain. “Ask them if they can give us an exact location.” I demand from Ms. Hayes. 

A few seconds later, a message comes back; 3rd floor storage closet. I flip open my cell. 

“Agent Casper. We’ve had contact from Moss and Seaborn, they are currently holed up in a 3rd floor storage closet. See if one of your teams can’t get them evacuated from there.” 

“I’m telling them to stay put until the F.B.I. reaches them.” Hayes announces and I nod my approval. If we can get the potential target out of the building, that’ll be a good first step in getting this ordeal resolved. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 

P.T.S.D. is very odd condition. There’s no maintenance treatment. There’s no cure. And worst of all, there is no telling what strange piece of minutiae might set it off. However, since gunfire and a gun shot wound set off the initial P.T.S.D reaction, I think it’s perfectly reasonable that the sound of several gunshots are setting off all kinds of reactions in me; especially since a stray bullet has lodged about a foot over the heads of the intern and I as we sit huddled in the hidden closet of Sam’s office. 

The intern has a pretty glazed look on her face, but the gunshots did have one positive outcome; she has stopped screaming and crying. She is completely silent. 

When the phone in my jacket pocket vibrates, we both jump, but when I can’t respond to the cell summons, she gives me a strange look. I can’t even shake my head. My heart is pounding so hard and loud I’m afraid that it alone will give away our location. 

Reluctantly, she…God, what is her name…Lisa! Good. I remembered it. Lisa reaches into my pocket and pulls it out while I can do nothing but stare at the closet door, certain it’s going to swing open seconds before shots are fired in our faces. The sirens in my head are so loud that they seem to be in the closet with us. 

She fiddles with it for a while, taking hitching breaths. Dear God, please tell me that’s a text from Donna and Sam saying that they’re safe. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“She says that the gunman seems to be alone and he’s holed up in your office directly above us.” She tells me. I’m barely able to restrain myself from grabbing the blackberry out of her hands so I can tell Ainsley something personally. “They want us to stay here until someone from the F.B.I. team can escort us out safely.” 

I nod in agreement, but then I think that though. “Wait, no.” 

“What?” Donna looks at me like I’ve lost my mind. 

“Think about it, Donna. Josh is upstairs with this lunatic. If they pull us out of here, we are OUT OF HERE.” And I see the moment it hits her. If we go with the F.B.I. we will be moving farther away from Josh and any assistance we might be able to give him. 

“Then…we need to find a new hiding place.” Donna decides. 

“While evading professionally trained F.B.I. agents.” I deadpan. 

“Well…yeah…” Donna agrees and then winces when she tries to use her hand to respond to the text. 

“Let me.” I tell her and hold my hand out for the Blackberry. She hesitates in handing me our only form of communication with the outside world, but something convinces her to do it anyway; maybe the excruciating pain of what I’m sure is a broken wrist. 

I’m about done telling Ainsley that we’re on the move and that I love her when another two shots are fired. Damn it! I mindlessly hit send and feverishly start another message to Josh. Did the gunman find him in the hidden closet? 

“Josh…” Donna says quietly beside me and whimpers. I nod and complete the message. I stare at the Blackberry screen as if the force of my will can compel him to answer. The longer we wait the more tense we grow. 

“He’s fine. I’m sure he’s fine.” I assure her but my voice is shaking so I don’t know how effective it is. We receive another text, but it’s not from Josh. What do you know, it appears Ainsley loves me too. And she doesn’t want me step out of this storage closet without F.B.I. protection because apparently this gunman is looking specifically for me. I can literally feel my face pale. 

“Ohmygodwhat?!” Donna demands as if the sentence is just one word. 

“It’s not Josh. It’s Ainsley. The gunman is in my office because he’s looking for me.” I whisper. 

“What? Why? And why the hell isn’t Josh answering?” 

“Maybe he can’t.” I offer and she gives me a sick look. 

“I mean, maybe he can’t risk making noise right now, or maybe his battery ran out, or maybe-“ I’m spared from making up even more nonsensical excuses by the vibration from the Blackberry. “It’s from Josh.” I tell her even as I open it and she slides next to me to read over my shoulder. “Lisa? Who the hell is Lisa and why is she using Josh’s phone?” 

“Lisa…she’s the new intern.” Donna recalls. “They’re in there together? Or does the crazy guy have them both now?” 

“Don’t panic.” I remind her and we read the rest of the text message. Lisa wrote that Josh seemed very shaken up and she didn’t know what to do.” 

“I need to get to Josh.” Donna whispers. “He’s having an attack.” 

“We need to get to Josh.” I correct her. “What do I tell Lisa?” 

“I don’t even know where- Tell her to remind him where they are and that help is on the way. Tell her to tell him Noah and I love him very much.” Donna instructs and I hurry to get all her words down. “God…Noah. I’m supposed to pick him up at 1.” Tears stream down her face. 

“Noah is fine. And his parents are going to go pick him up together as soon as we get the hell out of here.” I tell her. She nods, but the tears don’t even slow down. I hit send and take a deep breath. “I think you should wait here for the Cavalry.” She tries to argue with me. “You’re hurt and you need medical attention.” 

“You’re going to need medical attention if you try to leave me here, Sam Seaborn.” I look at the determination on her face and decide I’m not getting out of here alone. 

“Fine, but you stay behind me and do what I tell you to do.” I lay down the law. 

“Sam, you’ve known me for years. You don’t really think you can lay down the law with me while my husband is holed up in your office with some lunatic with a gun, do you?” 

I tried. 

I open the door slowly and can’t see or hear anyone. We need to get upstairs, but if we run into the F.B.I. it could turn out very bad for everyone. I decide to take a risk and call Ainsley directly. 

“Sam?” Her frantic voice tells me everything I need to know. 

“We’re okay, Ains.” 

“Are you out? Did they get you out?” 

“We’re getting out now and heading upstairs.” I tell her. 

“YOU ARE NOT.” She counters but quickly relays my message to whoever else is in the room with her so she must believe me. 

I take another look outside and it’s still clear. I motion for Donna to follow me and we make our way cautiously down the hall. “We’re going up the Northeast staircase. It would be nice if no Federal agents shot us when we got to the top.” Again, Ainsley is relaying my words to someone else. “Who’s there with you?” 

“I’m in the Oval with Leo, Agent Sinclair from the F.B.I., and the President.” 

“Donna’s worried about Noah.” I tell her. 

“I’ll get him. I’m listed as an emergency contact.” Ainsley offers and I pass it on to Donna who nods fervently. 

“That would be great, thanks.” I tell her. 

“Sam, hold on. They just ID’d the shooter from a fingerprint in Tillinghouse’s office.” She pauses and I can hear her gasp. “Oh God, Sam, it’s Webb’s son; Aaron Webb.” 

I stop in my tracks and Donna practically runs into me. Well, this just changes everything. 

“Sam, please just leave.” Ainsley’s voice has lowered and I can tell she’s trying to hold it together in front of the President. “Just get you and Donna out of there safely.” 

“I can’t, Ains. My best friend is up in my office, with the threat of a gun being pointed at his head, because of me.” 

“Because of his father.” Ainsley corrects me. “I’m begging you. Just get out of there.” 

I quickly hit end because I can’t listen to the sound of her voice begging me to do something and not do it, but I can’t leave Josh upstairs either. I take the stairs two at a time and Donna, bless her, keeps up with me despite the pain she must be in. I wait for her nod telling me she’s ready for me to open the stairwell door and then slowly push the door outward. I barely open it a few inches, when an arm snakes out and grabs me by the wrist. Donna screams. I’m whirled around into the hallway and come face to face with Mike Casper. 

“Are you deranged?” He asks me. 

“Well, I did run for Congress.” I admit and Donna comes through the door at the same moment. 

“Mike Casper, you scared the shit out of me.” She hits on and about the arm. 

“Cut it out!” Mike whines. “And you should have the shit scared out of you. DO you have any idea how my heart tripped over when I was told you to were coming TOWARDS the mad gunman instead of away from him?” Mike countered. “Do you know what Josh will do to me when he finds out you came up here?” 

“He’s having an attack, Mike.” She says simply and I see the fight go right out of him. “I have to get to him.” 

“Well…damn.” Mike shakes his head. “Stay back and I mean WAY back until-“ 

I can hear a door slam open and more screams from around the corner…where my office is located. 

“Somebody better get Sam Seaborn’s ass over here right now, or I start offing hostages starting with this guy!” Aaron Webb screams. 

Mike shoves Donna and I further from the commotion and behind several agents while he talks into his mic. 

“He’s got Matt Skinner.” He tells us. 

Donna and I exchange looks. This is just bad on so many levels. 

TBC


	6. Murphy's Law

I immediately pull my gun when I see this creepy little twerp appear with Matt. 

Well, this is just Murphy’s Fucking Law, isn’t it? 

Here’s the gunman, WITH a hostage, who not only is one of my best friends, but a United States Congressman and we already know he’s got no problem shooting them, and by the looks of Matt, he’s already taken one for the team. 

“You all right, man?” I call out to Matt. 

“Shit!” he shouts as Webb jerks him more in front of him. “Basically.” He grounds out. 

“Josh!” Donna shouts. 

“Everyone in there is dead.” Webb sneers with a jerk of his head towards Sam’s office. 

“Oh my God.” Donna whispers. 

“He’s bluffing, Donna.” I say out of the corner of my mouth. 

“Noooo, no, no, no, no.” 

Please, if there is a God in Heaven, you will not add an hysterical woman to the mix right now. 

“Donna, get back here!” Sam orders from the corridor to my side. 

“Is that Seaborn!” Webb shouts. “Come out, Sam! Come out, come out wherever you are!” 

“YOU MONSTER!” Donna shrieks. 

And all hell breaks loose. 

Webb fires. 

I fire. 

Matt falls. 

Donna dives. 

There’s motion in my peripheral vision where Sam is. 

When the proverbial dust settles, Webb, Matt, Sam and Donna are gone. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 

“JOSH!” I shriek into the office as I lock the door behind me. Webb can shoot his way in if he has to, but hopefully Mike got him just now. 

My wrist is screaming out in pain as I move into Sam’s private office. Lynn’s there crying hysterically, but she doesn’t look injured. 

I look around frantically and don’t see Josh anywhere. “Where’s Josh?” I demand. 

“I don’t know!” Lynn sobs. 

“Josh!?” 

“In here!” comes a faint female voice. 

That’s right! The secret closet. I throw the closet door open and yank Sam’s spare suits to the floor. Right on the edge, I see enough room to squeeze my fingers through and push open the pocket door with my good hand. 

Lisa comes falling out hysterical and Lynn hugs her. Together, they’re quite the hysterical mess. Josh is standing there looking very surprised. 

“Josh!” I cry out and throw my arms around his neck, raining kisses all over his face. “Oh my God, you’re okay! Webb said everyone in here was dead and I lost it! Oh, baby, are you okay?!” 

“Donna?” he blinks. 

“Yeah, it’s me.” I smile. 

“What the hell are you doing here? I told you to go home tonight.” 

“Tonight? Josh, it’s like 2 or 3 in the afternoon.” I say shaking my head. 

“You ask for a night off, I finally give you one and you show up anyway? See, you just can’t get enough of me.” He smirks. 

Oh my God. He’s got no idea where we are. I flip the light to the closet on and have the good sense to close the door. 

“Joshua,” I say grabbing his face with my good hand and forcing him to look at me. “You and I are not at the Newseum, do you understand me? We are in Sam’s Congressional offices and there’s a crazy gunman on the loose.” 

My heart is breaking as I watch him struggle with what I’m saying. “Please, Josh, listen to what I’m saying. We’re in Sam’s office. I need you to focus on me. I love you very much.” 

Nothing seems to be happening. 

Talk about Murphy’s Law. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 

“Donna?” 

“Yes! Oh Josh, yes! It’s me!” and she starts kissing me everywhere. 

“What are you doing here? How did you get here?” 

“Um…well, Sam and I came to find you.” 

“Where’s Sam?” 

“I don’t know. We got separated in the hall. Webb said you were dead and I lost it, and I dove in here when the shooting started and they’re all out in the hallway.” 

“What the hell!? You were safe! Why did you leave?” 

“He was looking for Sam!” 

“Exactly!” 

“I’m so sorry about our fight this morning, Josh.” She says hugging me with one arm. 

“Donna, that doesn’t matter now. I wish you would have stayed where you were safe.” 

“I could never leave you, you have to know that. Lisa said you were freaking out…” 

“Oh God, are you kidding?” 

“I couldn’t leave you alone.” 

There’s more shooting outside and I grab her hand and yank her to the floor. She screams out in agony and for a second, I think she somehow got shot. 

“Donna! Baby, are you okay?” I ask as I frantically check her over. She’s clinging one of her wrists to her chest and sobbing. “Donnatella, answer me!” 

“I think I broke my wrist.” She chokes out. 

“Just now?” 

“No, before when everything first started happening.” 

I gingerly take her wrist in my hands, and I don’t have to be an orthopedist to see that it’s broken and it’s turning a rather revolting shade of purple and blue. “It’ll be okay.” I try to sound soothing, but I’m literally going out of my mind right now. “We’ll get you some help.” 

There’s another loud bang and it sounds like a door being kicked in. 

“JOSH! DONNA!” shouts Mike. “Where the fuck are you two!?” 

“In here, Mike!” I call pushing the closet door open. 

“Is he all right?” Mike demands, nodding at me but looking at Donna. 

“More or less she says. It’s an episode, it’s coming and going.” 

Don’t mind me. I’m just the village invalid. 

A second later, Mike appears in the door. “Stay in this office.” He orders. “I’m leaving two agents in here with you. Webb’s got Matt and Sam now.” 

Then he disappears. 

Well, you know what I say: Whatever can go wrong, will go wrong. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 

“So, let me get this straight, Agent Sinclair,” the President says. “The gunman now has Congressman Seaborn and Congressman Skinner?” 

“Yes, sir.” Agent Sinclair says. 

Noah starts to whimper on my knee and I try to hush him and bounce him a bit while still listening to what everyone is saying around me. Why didn’t Sam and Donna just stay put? Does he have to be the hero in absolutely everything? 

“Mr. Lyman and three members of Congressman Seaborn’s staff are being held by our agents in the Congressman’s office.” Agent Sinclair goes on. 

“Three members of his staff.” Leo repeats. “Is one of those staffers Donna Lyman?” 

“Yes, sir.” 

I breath out a long relieved breath. Two of them are okay at the moment. Of course, the guy I love is being dragged around the Rayburn Building by a gun-toting, pissed off, rich kid. I can appreciate how ironic Sam would probably find this situation right now, me being republican and such an advocate of the second amendment…an amendment that’s now being held to the man I love’s head… 

“So, do we know where the gunman and the hostages are?” the President asks. 

“Yes, sir. They’re in the first aid ward.” 

“How did they get that far and the FBI didn’t shoot him?” 

“Agent Casper DID shoot him, sir.” Agent Sinclair says. “But he didn’t disable him. All we know is that both Webb and Congressman Skinner are wounded.” 

“And this guy wants Sam?” the President asks. 

Noah chooses that moment to let out a wail and all eyes in the room turn to me. “It’s okay, baby boy.” I soothe. “Aunt Ainsley is here.” I look at him and sign the sign for eat. “Are you hungry, Noah? Do you want to EAT?” Noah signs the sign for eat in return. 

“That’s amazing!” the President says, taking a breaking from the seriousness of the conversation. “Have Josh and Donna taught him sign language?” 

“A little bit, yes, sir.” I smile. “It’s coming in handy now.” 

“What else does he know?” 

“He knows more, want, all done, bed, please, thank you, crackers, drink, stop, and mom and dad.” 

“We should get Joey Lucas in here. She’d get a kick out of this!” the President smiles and relieves me of Noah while I root around in the luggage Donna calls a diaper bag for food. I come across some Zwiback Toast. It’ll have to do. Noah happily accepts a piece and the President doesn’t hand him back. 

Uh oh. 

Leo glares at me. 

Probably because the Deputy Chief of Staff’s son is currently using the President of the United States as a bib. I, myself, find it endearing. I’m glad I’ve gotten to know the President. I don’t agree with his positions politically, but he’s a wonderfully warm and brilliant man, who just adores kids. I think this might be what he’s like with his grandchildren. 

I wonder what my father will be like with grandchildren. Will he be accepting of a marriage between me and Sam? Can he see past his political opinions to see the wonderful man I do? 

Sadly, I’m brought back to the painful reality of the situation as Agent Sinclair continues with a briefing to the President and Leo about the FBI’s plan to rescue the two captive Congressmen, one of whom is my boyfriend and currently NOT my fiancé. 

TBC


	7. Murphy's Law

“Find some damn gauze!” He screams at me. 

“Do I look like a fucking nurse?” I toss back. The man’s already shot me, what more can he do? Yes, I know, shoot me again, but at this point, if it would stop the throbbing pain in my shoulder I might volunteer. 

“Listen, if you want to live to see dinner, find the gauze and something for the pain.” He orders. 

“Like you’re going to let me live anyway.” I mutter. 

“You’re insignificant to me. All I want is Sam Seaborn. I don’t care what happens to you.” He tells me. 

“Yes, that much has been made clear. Gauze!” I give a smile at my small triumph. 

“What about the pain meds?” He demands. 

“There’s nothing but Motrin here.” I report. “But there’s a few locked cupboards here that might have pain medication. If only we had a key.” I deadpan. 

“We don’t need any goddamn key.” Webb laughs and reloads his gun before shooting the hell out of the locked cupboards. “They’re open now.” 

“So they are.” I agree and cautiously open the cupboards. Ah, vicodin…my new best friend. I open the vial and toss one back without even a drink of water. I’d love to take two, but one will make me loopy enough. 

“Hey!” Webb objects to me taking the pills first. Tough shit. I wouldn’t need the pills if it weren’t for him. I toss him the vial of pills in the hope that he’ll be so focused on them that he’ll fumble with the gun. No such luck. He just lets them fall and gives me a nasty glare. 

“Pick them up and put them on the counter, then step away.” He instructs me. Bending over hurts like hell and I get a nice wave of dizziness too, but I follow his directions. 

Webb helps himself to a pill and then tosses me the gauze. “Wrap it around my leg.” 

I’ve got to hand it to Mike. He got a good shot off; hit this asshole right through the thigh, I’m guessing he was trying to get him down. I’m about to object again to being relegated to nursing duties when I hear Mike’s voice. 

“Aaron? This is Mike Casper. Are you okay?” What the hell? Aaron seems to be confused by Mike’s concern as well. 

“You shot me, you son of a bitch. What do you think?” Webb shouts. 

“Do you need medical assistance? Does Matt? We can send somebody in there.” 

“Right. I’ll just let you send in some agent to ‘help’ me. You think I’m stupid?” 

“Well, you did take hostages in a Federal Building, so my guess is-" I begin and get backhanded for my trouble. 

“Shut the hell up.” Webb orders. 

“Aaron, you need to tell us what you need so we can end this thing peacefully.” Mike attempts. 

“I NEED Sam Seaborn’s ass over here now.” Aaron contends. 

“We’re having some trouble finding him, Aaron. He went off campus after the floor vote.” 

“Bullshit. He had an appointment in his office.” Aaron shouts back. 

“He had to cancel it when he was called to the White House. I could try to get him on the phone for you.” Mike offers. 

“I can get him on the phone, asshole. ANYONE can get him on the phone. I want Seaborn right here where I can see him and he can answer for what he did to my family.” 

“This must have been horrible for you and your mom, Aaron. I can’t imagine the pain you’ve been through.” Mike is all empathy now. Shouldn’t my taxpayer dollars be paying for a professional negotiator? Like someone who does it routinely? Or is it that when there’s a Democratic President and a Republican hostage…Nah…the vicodin must be getting to me because I’m finding this whole thing pretty damn funny. 

“I want a real negotiator, Casper.” I shout out to him and laugh. 

“Matt? You okay over there?” He asks me directly. 

“He’s going to be dead if you don’t get Seaborn over here.” Aaron adds. 

“You don’t want to do that, Aaron. If you shoot Matt, you’ll be out of bargaining chips.” 

“I can shoot him several times before I kill him.” Aaron points out and this strikes me as funny too. “Get Seaborn.” 

There’s a pause before Mike answers. “He’s on his way, Aaron. Is there anything you need while we’re waiting?” 

“I just. NEED. SEABORN!” 

“He’s coming. He’ll be here shortly. Just hold on, Aaron. It’s got to be pretty hot in there. Let me send in something cold to drink.” 

“With some drug in it? No thanks.” Webb scoffs. 

“I’ll take the drugged drink!” I offer. This is taking far too long. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 

“Mike…” I call his name softly again. 

“Shut. Up. Or I have my team haul your ass out of here.” Mike threatens me just as several agents come out of my office accompanied by Josh and Donna. 

“I told you to keep them in the office. Do you have trouble with simple directions Agent Fiorino?” Mike snaps. 

“He called the White House.” Fiorino lifts his arms up in a ‘what are you going to do’ gesture. I am so happy to see my friend safe, though obviously shaken, that I can’t even find the words and just envelop him in a hug. 

“The happy reunion is going to have to wait. I’m trying to get our last hostage out safely.” Mike grouses. “We can’t get our sleep agent in there because he’s blocked the air ducts and there are no windows to even get a sight line. We have to get him and Matt out of that first aid room.” 

“What can we use to get him out of there?” Fiorino asks. 

“The only thing he wants is…” Mike trails off rather than say the word ‘Sam’. 

“Then I go in after he brings Matt out.” I say simply. 

”The hell you do.” Donna answers before anyone. “We’ll find another way to get Matt out safely, right Mike?” 

Mike doesn’t answer right away so I know he’s considering the pro’s and con’s to the plan. 

“Mike, you can’t let him do that.” Josh adds. 

“Casper? Sinclair is on the line. He wants an update.” Fiorino tells us. 

“Tell him we’re negotiating a hostage swap.” Mike answers looking me straight in the eyes. “Here’s what we’re going to do.” 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 

“Aaron. I’ve got good news. Sam Seaborn is here.” Mike shouts out down the hall. 

“Send him in here.” Aaron commands. 

“I can’t do that Aaron, until you send Matt out.” Mike says carefully. 

“As soon as I send him out you’re going to storm the place. Send Seaborn in first, then I’ll let this guy go. I don’t care about him anyway, all I want is Seaborn.” 

“Let’s make a deal, Aaron. Come out of there WITH Matt, and we’ll make a switch.” Mike suggests. “Sam’s right here ready to listen to you. Just come out with Matt.” 

There’s a long pause before he responds. “I want everyone besides Seaborn out of the hallway.” Webb stipulates. “I want to see Seaborn’s face.” 

“I’m right here, Aaron.” Sam answers and Aaron slowly opens the door to the first aid room. It let’s out an eerie squeak and I move up just a bit behind him, but Aaron sees or sense the move and waves me back with the gun. 

“Don’t do it, Sam.” I shout. “He’s not interested in talking to you.” 

This seems to upset my captor and he shoots another bullet just to the right of me. “SHUT UP, SHUT UP, SHUT UP!” This guy has now officially ventured over the edge. 

“Matt?!” Mike shouts for me. 

“Yeah…” I shout back still keeping eye contact with Webb. After a tension filled minute, he walked slowly back to the door and peeked through the crack in it. He must have seen Sam because his face split into an evil grin. 

“Here’s how we’re going to do this, Aaron.” Mike pipes up again. Sam’s going into an office across the hall from you. You head over and once you’re safely through the door, you let Matt go.” 

“How do I know the office is empty?” Aaron asks. 

“I’ve been straight with you so far. Sam is standing here just like I promised he would be. Look in the office first, if anything looks off to you, then you and Matt go back to the First Aid room.” 

Webb looks truly torn. He really wants Sam, but he’s afraid he’s going to miss something in grabbing for the brass ring here. 

“I know Mike. He’s a straight shooter.” Oops, bad choice of words, I chuckle. Damn Vicodin. “Hey, I’ll stick with you until you’re sure everything’s on the up and up.” I promise. I’m not sure what the plan is here, but it seems to involve getting Webb out of this room, so I’ll do what I can to help with that. 

“Send Seaborn in first.” Webb requests. 

“He’s coming now.” Mike announces and I hear footsteps in the otherwise silent hallway, then a door opening and closing. Webb motions for me to proceed him into the hallway. Here we go. 

When I get out past the door, I see an entire crew at the other end of the hallway, most of whom have guns. “We’re coming out.” I warn them. God, just don’t shoot me guys. We start moving forward, Webb’s left hand around my injured arm, guiding me to stay in front of him while we ease our way down the hallway. Suddenly, he jerks me to a stop. 

“Lyman!” He roars. “I want Lyman too!” Webb insists and I startle. Jesus, what is Josh doing standing with Mike? Shouldn’t he be out of the building? Wasn’t getting him out of here safely why I’m in this position in the first place? I shoot both of them dirty looks. 

“Josh isn’t part of the deal.” Mike shakes his head. 

“He is now, isn’t he Matt?” Aaron asks me. 

“No way, Lyman is completely useless.” I tell him. 

“That’s a fucking joke. He’s the one who dug up those lies about my father and convinced Seaborn to use them.” Webb insisted. The commotion brings Sam back out the door. 

“What the hell?” 

“Josh Lyman is going to join our little party since this was his doing anyway.” Webb informs him. 

“NO!” Sam yells and tries to get Webb to focus back on him. “Josh just did what campaign managers do. It was my decision to use it. It was my choice.” 

“Which you’d never have been in a position to make, without his meddling!” 

“He isn’t a part of this.” Sam continues. 

“He is now!” Webb shouts back. “Lyman joins our little party or he can say good bye to his friend here in 5…4…3…” Webb points the gun directly to my temple and I close my eyes. 

“NO!” I hear Josh’s voice. “I’m here.” 

“JOSHUA!” Now it’s Donna’s voice I hear and I open my eyes to see Josh advancing toward us while Donna is being held back by Mike. 

“I’m right here. Matt had nothing to do with any of this. Let him go.” Josh keeps walking toward us with his hands held up in a calming gesture, but all I can focus on is Donna’s face as she sobs silently. 

“Inside with Seaborn.” Webb tosses his head in the direction of Sam and walks us both closer to the door. 

“Fine. That’s fine, but let Matt go. Let him go!” Josh shouts when Webb doesn’t respond to the request the first time. Webb nods toward the office again and Josh nears the threshold. Webb kicks Josh through the doorway and pulls me after him. 

Once we’re all inside, I can take stock of our surroundings. We’re in Congresswoman Cameron’s office. I don’t know her all that well but her decorating positively sucks. I fall more than sit into one of her chairs, holding my throbbing arm and shoulder. Josh drops next to me. 

“Jesus, Matt, are you okay?” He asks and takes a closer look at where I’ve concocted a makeshift bandage. 

“Get away from him Lyman.” Webb threatens. 

“Or what? You’re going to shoot me? Like that isn’t your plan already.” He mutters. “This is going to hurt, but I need to tighten this, buddy.” He tells me and follows his words with the actions that make me groan. 

“You should be the one to help him I guess since it’s your fault we’re all here in the first place.” Aaron sneers. 

“It’s your father’s fault, not mine. He decided to take the bribes. HE decided to have an affair.” I swear to God Josh is egging him on and that is not at all good in the present situation. Normally, I enjoy watching Josh flay someone open with his tongue, but this guy has a gun and I don’t think he’s entirely stable. 

“Shut the hell up, you son of a bitch!” Aaron screams. 

“Make me, asshole.” Josh gets in his face, I mean in his face! 

“Josh!” Sam steps in between them, his eyes flashing and then it hits me. Josh is having an episode. Oh, shit. 

“No, let him make me.” Josh shoves Sam out of the way. “He’s not going to shoot me; at least not yet. First, he’s going want us to apologize and beg for our lives, right Webb?” 

“You ought to!” Webb shouts. “You ought to beg for your lives.” 

“Never.” Josh says simply. “You’re just as twisted as your old man and you’re going to end up just like him; disgraced, forgotten, and dead.” 

“Josh.” Sam says quietly. “We’re going to do whatever Aaron says. He’s in charge here and you have an appointment with Noah when we’re done here.” 

Josh blinks at the sound of his son’s name. He looks over at Sam curiously; like he can’t figure out how he got there. I’m wounded and am no shape to physically help my friends, we’re being held hostage by a deranged gunman who thinks my two friends are responsible for his father’s suicide, and now Josh is having a PTSD episode. Murphy’s Law anyone? 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 

“Noah.” I repeat my son’s name and pain goes searing through my body. Sam nods at me. I shoot a nervous look toward the window. Sam signs ‘no’ and ‘wait’. I’ve got to get Matt out of here before all hell breaks loose. 

“Look…I’m sorry. This is just a little overwhelming, you know?” I try my affable smile, but Aaron looks more suspicious than appeased. “Matt is really hurt. He needs medical care and you promised you’d let him go once we were here with you.” 

“Aaron. We made a deal and you’ve already altered it. Send Matt out now.” Mike’s voice rings down the hall. 

“He can just walk out all by himself.” Sam adds and I nod earnestly. “We’ll stay way over here; far from the door.” 

“Now, Aaron!” Mike sounds like he’s getting extremely pissed. 

“Fine. He’s just dead weight now, anyway.” Aaron tells us. “Go on. Get out.” He shouts at Matt, who keeps looking between me and Sam. 

“Go.” I tell him. “Stay with Donna in case she needs you.” 

Matt nods reluctantly and carefully gets to his unstable feet. He edges slowly to the door and opens it, but keeps his eyes on Webb. In another instant, he’s gone and the door shuts again closing us in with this lunatic. 

I’m trying to concentrate but the siren sounds keep distracting me and pulling me back to the Newseum. It’s like a dream where you KNOW that it’s a dream, but you can’t wake yourself up and the knowledge doesn’t keep your heart from racing. My mind swirls around to Donna and Noah. They help me stay focused. 

“Aaron, I’m sorry about what happened to your father.” Sam is telling him. “I wrote you a letter after the…election. Did you get it?” 

“Oh, yeah…very touching.” Webb says sarcastically. “You felt terrible AFTER the damage had already been done. Did you ever stop to think what you were doing before you made your ‘revelations’? Did you even care what the human cost was to me and my family?” 

“I’m sorry.” Sam answered simply. 

“Sorry’s not good enough, Congressman!” Webb waved the gun at him in his apparent despair. 

“It was my fault.” I interrupt. “Sam would have never even known about it if I hadn’t dug it up. I forced him to release it.” 

“I don’t doubt that you did, but HE had choices too.” Webb points at Sam with the gun. 

“It wouldn’t have mattered. I’d have released it anyway. It was me.” I keep talking even as I see Sam signing ‘stop’. I move my two fingers and thumb together in the sign for ‘no’ and tip my head toward the window. 

“You think you’re so fucking superior, don’t you?” Aaron accuses me and I almost laugh at the irony. Thinking I was better than Webb was what started all of this. Thinking I was superior to Donna was what escalated things between the two of us. Maybe it’s time I tried a little humility. 

“I did. I absolutely did.” I admit. “I didn’t care about you, your mom, or even give a moments thought to how your dad would react. All I wanted to do was win.” 

Aaron sits down heavily. “It destroyed him. It destroyed all of us.” 

“Aaron?” Mike calls out again. “We’ve got your mother on the line. She wants to talk to you.” 

“NO!” Aaron shoots to his feet and whips the door open. “Keep her out of this Casper. Do you hear me?” 

“She contacted us, Aaron. She wants to talk to you.” 

“No. I’m taking care of this myself. This has nothing to do with her.” 

“She thinks this is because of her. That you’re doing this for her and she wants you to stop.” 

“Shut the hell up!” Aaron slams the door shut again and paces back and forth near it. I try to focus on the plan. Get him near the window. As if he reads my mind, he walks over to the window, but he immediately pulls the shades closed. Damn. 

“I want him to keep my mother out of this.” Aaron tells Sam. “Make him keep my mother out of this.” 

I know just how the kid feels. I want him to keep my friend out of this; my wife out of this. But once you’ve got these close connections, there’s no keeping anyone out of anything. At least Matt is safe. 

Sam was supposed to keep him placated and near the window where the sharpshooters would have a shot at him, but so far I’ve drawn him away from the windows (where the shades are drawn) got him pretty riled up on my own, and now Mike’s pushing his buttons with Mrs. Webb. It can’t possibly get worse. 

Then the lights go out. Damn Murphy’s Law. 

TBC


	8. Murphy's Law

The second the lights plunge off, the door bursts open. Sam and I grab each other and hit the floor as the shots ring out and the sirens in my head get louder. The whole exchange lasts about 15 seconds. 

“CLEAR!” 

“CLEAR!” 

“Target’s down.” 

The lights come on and there’s three agents there with rifles and night vision goggles. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 

I watch the agents kick the door in and the shooting immediately starts. 

“God no!” I scream. I clutch my head and sink to my knees sobbing. 

“It’s okay, Donna.” Matt says next to me with one arm around my shoulders. “They’ve got the night vision goggles on. The agents won’t get Josh or Sam.” 

I can feel my breaths coming in quick breaths now and know that I’m hyperventilating. I can’t take this happening to Josh again. I barely survived it the first time. 

“Jesus Christ, Matt. I said take care of her.” 

I’m released from Matt’s arm to an embrace I know well and I truly come to pieces in his arms. I just can’t take anymore of this day. 

“We’re okay.” He softly croons in my ear. “Sam and I are okay, I swear to God, Donna. Open your eyes and look.” 

I clutch his shirt with my good hand and open my eyes to see him smiling at me. He’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. 

I kiss him softly and then pull away and punch him in the stomach. 

“Oophf.” 

“Joshua, you idiot! I can’t believe you did that! How DARE you take a gamble with your life like that without discussing it with me! How dare you put me and Noah in a position of possibly having to live without your dumb ass!” As he’s doubled over from my punch, I start smacking him repeatedly in the shoulders. I’m vaguely cognizant of Mike and Matt’s laughter. 

“I’m sorry! I’m sorry!” he’s finally able to get upright and after a brief struggle, pins my arms behind my back and I drop my head against his chest in defeat. His arms come tight around my back and it’s a good thing they do because that’s when everything goes dark. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 

Shit! 

And I thought I was the basketcase today. Donna just fainted dead away. I catch her immediately and bring her to the closest office and lay her on the couch. Mike and Sam are by my side. Matt’s getting stabilized by the paramedics. 

She immediately comes to and starts to sit up, but gets woozy and grabs my arm. 

“Whoa.” I say gently and ease her back down. 

“You okay, Donna?” Mike asks. 

“Yeah.” She nods. 

“All right. I’m going to get back out there.” 

Mike leaves the office and Sam and I stay with Donna. 

“Are you really okay?” she whispers to me. 

“I really am.” I smile. 

“What about the thing?” 

“I’m probably going to need to fill a prescription.” 

“Kay.” She says, taking my hand. “Sam?” she asks looking over to him. 

“Yeah.” 

“How are you holding up?” 

“I’m…well, I don’t know…I’m… I’m guess I’m pretty freaked out… that guy …yeah, I don’t know… I think it’s going to take me… you know what? I’m going to sit down.” He rambles before finally dropping into a chair. 

“Maybe you should call Ainsley.” Donna suggests gently. “She’s probably very worried about you. We need to check on Noah anyway and make sure he’s not giving her a hard time.” 

“Noah.” Sam says. “And Ainsley. Yeah, I’ll call them. I’ll do that.” He pulls out his phone and begins to dial. 

“Donnatella,” I say turning my attention back to my wife. “we really need to get that hand taken care of now. There are medics here who can splint it correctly and take us to GW.” 

“Me.” She replies. 

“What?” 

“Take ME to GW, Josh. You need to go get Noah.” 

“Noah’s at the WHITE HOUSE, Donna. There’s plenty of people there with the parental experience to watch him for a little while, while I go with you.” 

“Josh, I think an emergency room is the last place you should go today.” She says calmly. “It’s a broken wrist and I’ll be there for hours while it gets x-rayed and set…” 

“Donna, I can’t not be with you right now.” I blurt as I hear Sam talking on the phone. It sounds like he’s talking to the President. 

Donna smiles at my words and caves immediately. “Okay.” She agrees softly. Her instincts are always to make sure I have what I need and right now I need her and I have no problem shamelessly exploiting that. 

“God, Donna, I was out of my mind when you were with Sam and that guy was looking for you guys.” 

“I’m sure you weren’t half as nuts as I was when I discovered you were actually in the room with him!” 

“I’m just…I’m so sorry, Donna. I’m so sorry about our fight this morning. I was horrible.” 

“Josh, so was I.” 

“But I know there’s not always a tomorrow and I don’t ever want our last words to each other to be in anger.” 

“Um…Josh? I appreciate the sentiment and all, but this is us and we fight.” 

“I know that.” he said. “In fact, I don’t think I’d like us very much if we did always get along, but I think we should just make an effort to never part mad, never leave it unresolved.” 

“Sounds like a good plan.” She smiles. “And for the record, I’m sorry, too.” 

“Ma’am.” A paramedic interrupts us. “I really think we need to splint that wrist now.” 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 

I’m President of the United States and for the life of me I don’t know how I end up in situations like this. 

Sam is rambling incoherently on the speakerphone in my one ear, and Ainsley, God love her, is rambling in my other ear at my side. They seem to be rambling to each other THROUGH me. I’m the Commander in Chief of the most powerful Army in the history of the world. How did I get stuck in the middle of a love-whatever? 

“Okay. Hold on.” I finally order holding up my hand. “Sam and Ainsley, you will get to gush at each other. First, I’m looking for details. Sam, who’s hurt?” 

“Matt Skinner was shot in the shoulder and they’re taking him to the hospital; Donna broke her wrist when we took cover during the initial gun shots and the paramedics are splinting it now and they’re going to take her the hospital, and I know that the shooter was hit, but I don’t know his condition.” 

“What about you and Josh?” I ask. 

“Well, physically we’re both fine, if you know what I mean, sir.” 

I do know what he means and I look over knowingly at Leo. I think we’re going to lose our DCoS for a few days. Well, I don’t think it, I know it. Both Donna and I will make him take a few days off after this. 

“And he was after you? Why?” 

“He was Chuck Webb’s son.” Sam says quietly. 

“Somebody’s having some issues.” Leo pipes up. 

“No kidding.” I say. 

“Sir, I’d like to be able to talk to Ainsley if I could and Josh and Donna want to check on Noah.” 

“Sure, Sam.” I say standing upright. I press the extension and hand Ainsley the receiver so she could have some privacy. She immediately gets on the phone and starts gushing. Something about father’s not really hating Democrats or something like that. 

I walk over to Leo and we give each other a meaningful look. 

“Sounds like your deputy is having a difficult time over here.” I say to him. 

“Donna’ll take care of him and he’ll be back in a few days, I’m sure.” 

“Maybe.” Is all I say in return. 

Maybe. 

TBC


	9. Murphy's Law

“I’m just wondering, Agent Casper, if there is any rule in the book you haven’t broken or bent in this operation.” Sinclair drawled. 

“There’s a couple I’ve left intact, sir.” I answer a little flippantly. I’m exhausted; physically, mentally, and emotionally. 

“We hire, train, and depend on agents whose only job is to handle hostage negotiations, you know.” 

“I’m aware, sir, and had one called to the scene. However, by the time she had arrived, I had already established contact with Webb and we both felt it would be detrimental to change horses mid-stream so to speak.” 

“What’s Webb’s current status?” 

“He’s in stable condition, being treated for three gunshots to the leg, and arm.” I report. I would have loved to simply take the bastard out, but I followed procedure and incapacitated him. 

“And the rest of your crew?” 

“Not a scratch, sir. Congressman Skinner was wounded before we were on scene, and some of the other people in Congressman Seaborn’s office have cuts or bruises, but that’s the extent of the human toll.” 

“Hmmmm…” Sinclair is deciding whether or not to drop the hammer on me. Yeah, I broke a few rules and it ended up putting Josh in jeopardy, but I’m guessing that will result in some wrist slapping considering the positive outcome, and press, the Bureau got here. “I’ll want your full report before you leave today. Then we’ll decide exactly how far to stick your fat into the fire on policy.” 

“Yes, sir.” See? Sinclair is all about the fair. He’ll tell the higher ups he chewed my butt off and that will be the end of it. I make my way over to the hospital to check on how my friends are faring. 

“Matt, how ya’ doing?” I ask him. 

“Great…great!” Matt is higher than a kite. “Getting shot isn’t that big a deal! In fact, when I’m done with this term, I’m thinking I’ll sign up to be a G man.” 

“I’ll write you a letter of recommendation.” I promise. “They going to keep you here overnight?” 

“Yep. They want to watch for infection or something.” Matt tells me waving his good arm around like he’s conducting an orchestra. “I can go home tomorrow, though. Donna said I can stay with them while I recover. Donna is SO sweet. I swear, if she was my type, I would totally fight Josh for her.” 

“Then I guess it’s a good thing that you play for the other team.” I grin. “I’m going to go check on the golden couple now.” 

“Sure, sure…Tell them ‘hi’ from me.” He requests. He is so wasted. “Hey Mike? You did good today. You saved all of us. I owe you one.” He’s tearing up and he’s going to hate himself for this once he’s off the meds. 

“You’ll find out when you start at the Bureau that it’s all part of the job, but you’re welcome.” I tell him and leave him in his drug induced euphoria. 

When I find Donna in her treatment room she’s alone and in tears. 

“Hey, what’s wrong? Where’s Josh?” I figured it would take a Presidential order to get Josh to leave Donna’s side. 

“He’s with the specialist.” Donna tells me. “I’m just letting off a little stress, Mike. It’s been a long day and I want my husband and son with me.” 

“Ainsley is on her way over with Noah.” I assure her and take her in my arms, mindful of the new cast on her wrist. “Your family will all be together soon.” 

“Thanks to you.” She tells me, but I try to brush it off. 

“That’s what the bureau does when-“ 

“Yeah, but it didn’t have to be you. It probably shouldn’t have been you since you were personally connected to people involved. You must have requested the assignment and that put you in harms way.” 

“Would Josh have done anything less for me? Isn’t that why he wouldn’t leave the scene with you even after we broke him out of his hiding place?” 

“That doesn’t make your actions any less noble. And it doesn’t lesson my appreciation in the slightest.” She tells me. 

“Jeez, I get showered with praise and hero worship from a married woman and a gay man. Where are the beautiful, single women, excited by my heroism?” I ask looking around. 

“My intern Lisa seems to think you cause the sun to rise and set.” Sam said from behind me. 

“You okay?” I ask him, ignoring the intern comment. She’s like 10 years old. 

“Thanks to you and your team, yes I am.” Sam holds his hands out to show he’s uninjured. “A few scrapes and cuts from the glass is all.” 

“Glad to hear it.” I reply and take his offered hand in a handshake. “You did a very good job of keeping your cool in nerve racking experience. You handled Webb with a lot of compassion.” I don’t mention it in front of Donna, but I know that Sam has already hired an attorney for Webb. He’s a stand up kind of guy, Sam Seaborn. Makes me wish I could vote for him. 

We’re interrupted by the arrival of Ainsley Hayes and Noah Lyman, who literally dives out of Ainsley’s arms and into Donna’s. Donna struggles to hang on to him with one good arm and the tears are flowing down each of our faces now. 

“Mommy’s here, baby. And Daddy will be here soon.” Donna croons and rocks Noah back and forth in her arms. Sam and Ainsley just watch them, but Sam’s arms are around Ainsley and they are obviously enjoying the reunion themselves. Nothing like being a 5th wheel. I’m about to exit when something catches my eye on TV; it’s the smitten intern giving her tearful account of the days’ events. 

“Oh, it was horrible! I’ve never been so scared in my life.” She says and now she has Donna’s attention. “We hid in a secret part of the closet in Congressman Seaborn’s office until the F.B.I. rescued us.” 

“Who was ‘us’?” Asks a reporter. 

“Ummm.” God, I can see the wheels turning as she tries to remember Josh’s name. “Josh Lyman. He works in the White House.” 

“White House Deputy Chief of Staff Josh Lyman was trapped in the office with you? Why was he there?” 

“He had an appointment with the Congressman and he was waiting in the office for the meeting when the gunman stormed in. Mr. Lyman saved my life when he hid us in the secret closet.” 

“Was Mr. Lyman injured in the incident?” 

“No…I don’t think so… but they said something about him having a PTSD attack. I think it affects his breathing because he was having a hard time breathing most of the time we were hiding.” 

“P.T.S.D.?” The reporter confirms. “Who said the Deputy Chief of Staff has post traumatic stress disorder?” 

“His wife told one of the paramedics who came in with the F.B.I.” Lisa offers. The reporters go wild shouting dozens of questions at once until Lisa is able to disentangle herself from the crowd and escape into a waiting car. 

“That’s going to make things interesting.” I note. Donna is still staring at the TV set with a deer in the headlights expression on her face. Sam looks ready to tear somebody’s lungs out and keeps throwing worried glances at Donna. I thought our headaches were over for the day. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 

“How are we doing Mr. Lyman?” 

“My name is Josh and ‘we’ aren’t doing anything at all.” I really can’t take anymore of this perky nurse right now. The specialist on call moved me from the loud, busy, emergency room to a quiet, dark treatment room, but I feel like I’m on the edge and hanging on by my fingernails. 

They took Donna to treat her wrist, but I need her here. She grounds me when I have these attacks. I can focus better when she’s around. And damn it, where is my son? Sam swore Ainsley was on her way down here with him. So where the hell is he? 

“The doctor ok’d some meds for you, Mr. Lyman. I brought you some water to take with them.” She hands me the water and a couple pills and I down them without even asking what they are. Anything that might bring me relief at this point is welcome. I’m tired of my head and heart pounding; my stomach churning. 

“I need to see my wife. Can you please see if she’s done with her doctor yet?” I ask in a quiet respectful voice. Donna would be so proud of me. 

“I don’t have that information, Mr. Lyman.” 

“I KNOW YOU DON’T SO WOULD YOU PLEASE, FOR THE LOVE OF GOD, ASK SOMEBODY?!” Okay, maybe not if Donna had heard THAT part, but seriously. 

“I…I’ll go see what I can find out.” She rushes out like I threatened her with bodily harm. 

“You scared the hell out of Angela.” Dr. Mitchell tells me. 

“I wasn’t even trying.” I admit. 

“She’s on loan to us from pediatrics so she’s already outside her comfort zone.” Mitchell explains. “Did you take your pills yet?” 

“Just now. Do you know where my wife is?” 

“I just got off the phone with her attending. She’s got a broken wrist that they’ve casted, and your son has just arrived. They’re on their way down.” 

I let out a huge sigh of relief and tip my head back into the pillow. 

“But if you have a hope in hell of going home with them we need to get your heart rate and your blood pressure stable.” Mitchell is a killjoy. I’ve just decided that. “I spoke to Dr. Keyworth. He asked me to tell you he’s available by phone anytime you’d like to speak to him. After briefing him on your day, and your symptoms, we agreed that you should be on the anti-anxiety medication for a few days and we’ve upped your blood pressure dosage.” 

“The anti-anxiety meds make me sleepy. That doesn’t work real well with my job.” I point out. 

“Then it’s fortunate that you’re going to have the next few days off, isn’t it?” He smiles at me like this is good news. 

“No, no. We’ve just had this crisis and we have a crucial floor vote coming up. I can’t take a few days off.” 

“This isn’t my directive. It comes directly from the President of the United States.” Mitchell informs me. Well shit. “If I were you, I’d let someone else handle things for a few days. Otherwise, you might find yourself out of work for a lot longer than that.” 

This leads me to another area of concern. “Dr. Mitchell, I’m wondering exactly what is being recorded in my chart about this.” 

“It would be irresponsible not to chart your blood pressure and heart rate stats as well as all medication you’re taking.” Mitchell tells me point blank. “However, many drugs have multiple uses. An anti-anxiety medication, for instance, may also be prescribed for blood pressure patients. The other symptoms you’re experiencing are concerning, so I’m noting that you follow up with your regular doctor as soon as possible.” 

“Thanks, Doc.” And I mean it too. The last thing I need is for some $10 an hour records clerk to make copies of my medical record pages and shoot them across the hill. 

“Doctor? Mrs. Lyman and her son are outside. Is it okay for them to come in?” Angela asks. 

“Absolutely. They might be the best medicine yet.” Mitchell answers and watches as Donna flies into the room with Noah held in her good arm. 

“Are you a sight for sore eyes.” I tell them. 

“Dadadada” Noah babbles and I almost lose it right there. He reaches his little arms to me and leans away from Donna just trusting that I’ll catch him; which I do. I hope I never let him fall. 

“You still look pretty pale.” Donna notes. 

“I’m okay.” I lie and I know she knows it, but even that is comforting. 

“Mrs. Lyman, I’m Dr. Mitchell. We’re going to be keeping your husband here for observation for awhile; just until his stats are consistently back to normal. I’m guessing you won’t be leaving here until he is, so make yourself as comfortable as possible. You need to take it easy too.” 

“We’ll make sure she does.” Sam promises from the doorway. 

“We can take Noah home with us too, if that would help.” Ainsley offers. 

“Thanks.” Donna answers. “But we’re going to stick together for awhile.” 

“You doing okay?” Sam asks me. 

“Mostly.” I shrug. “You?” 

“Yeah. Mike had to head back but he stopped in for a bit to check on everyone. He said Matt is looped on pain meds and talking about joining the bureau.” Sam relays and the doctor takes his cue to leave. “Mike went on and on about just doing his job and it being no big deal. Can you believe that guy?” 

There is something off here. Sam is trying to lighten my mood, I get that, but there’s something forced about it. I see a worried look pass between the women and my suspicions are confirmed. I haven’t employed misdirection for all these years without learning how to spot it myself. 

“What’s going on?” I ask the group at large but I focus on Ainsley. She’s going to be the weak link here. 

“We’re just glad to see your blood pressure is coming down.” She smiles. “Noah has been asking for you over and over. The President even learned some sign to talk with him.” 

“Uh-huh. Ainsley, what aren’t you telling me?” I ask. 

She shoots a panicked look at Sam who in turn shoots one to Donna. 

“I really don’t have the patience for this people. Just spit it out.” I direct them. 

Donna sits on the bed with me. “This story has garnered a lot of press, as you can imagine. Our intern, Lisa, the one you were trapped with, got totally blindsided outside the hospital when they released her.” 

“And?” 

“And when she was relaying the events, and how your fast thinking saved her life, she also mentioned that you have PTSD.” Donna explains. “She must have overheard me telling the EMT’s about it. It’s all my fault, Josh. I’m so sorry.” 

I dismiss her apology with a wave of my hand. The EMT’s needed to know about my diagnosis and with everything that was going on during those first few crazy minutes after our liberation I’m frankly surprised the intern caught that bit of information. Now, however, it puts the whole President ordered rest in a different light. Is this a medical necessity or a political reprieve? There’s a third possibility; they may be softening the ground work for my ‘resignation’ due to medical issues. Leo told me that as long as he had a job, I had a job. But that was before my personal life created havoc on this administration and way before a member of the senior staff was found to be hiding his psychological condition. 

What happens now is anyone’s guess. And my blood pressure just ticked up again. 

TBC


	10. Murphy's Law

The paranoia seems to be setting in. I’m quietly pacing next to the hospital, trying not to wake Donna. We kept Noah here for a few hours with us, but my blood pressure hasn’t come down, so since we’re still here and it’s bedtime, Sam and Ainsley took him back to our place. 

Yes, yes, I know. Pacing is not helping the heart rate. But I can’t help it. It’s how I think. 

“What’s wrong?” comes a mumble from the bed. Guess I did a pretty shotty job of not waking her up. 

“Nothing.” I immediately lie. 

“You’re pacing and obviously don’t care that it’s not going to help your heart rate to go down so you can come home, so something’s eating at you, Josh.” She says sitting up and rubbing her eyes. 

“I’m okay. Go back to sleep.” 

“Josh…” 

“Why do you think the President gave me three days off?” 

“Because you were in a shoot out and he’s worried about you.” She answers simply. 

“Do you think it’s because of what Lisa said on t.v.?” 

“No, I absolutely don’t.” she says after a moment. 

“How do you know?” 

“I don’t. But, Josh, if that were an issue, don’t you think it would have been an issue two years ago? If he were going to fire you for it, he would have done it then.” 

“Nobody knew about it then.” I counter deftly. 

“He did. And nobody knew about his M.S. either, and when they found out, the American public didn’t fire him.” She expertly replies. 

“Valid point.” I say. 

“Joshua, I’m begging you, PLEASE come and lay down. You have to try and unwind.” 

“I’m restless.” I say. But when I turn and look at her, it’s the hamster face. Shit. I climb into the bed next to her, even though I feel like I’m going to explode out of my skin. Why aren’t any of these freaking meds working! 

She adjusts herself so she can run her fingers rhythmically through my hair. I close my eyes and try to push everything else from my mind and concentrate solely on her touch. After a few moments, I open my eyes and look up at her, only to find her staring down at me. 

“How are you?” I whisper. 

She shrugs. “I think I’m still kinda in shock. I lost it a bit earlier, but now I feel kinda ambivalent. I imagine my next step will be a breakdown.” 

“You’ll tell me when that happens, right?” I ask. She nods. I don’t believe her. “You won’t try to hide it because you’re afraid of freaking me out?” 

“Sure.” 

“Donna…” 

“Josh, I think talking about a shooting while you’re having a PTSD episode is probably not the best medicine.” 

“What do you think I do with Stanley?” 

“Fair point, but neither one of us is…” she trails off. “Why don’t we just cross that bridge when we come to it.” 

It’s the best I’m going to get for the moment, so I close my eyes again and immediately start to fidget. After a few minutes, Donna gets frustrated. 

“I think we should drug you.” She announces. 

“What!?” my eyes fly open. “I already AM drugged.” 

“Something to help you sleep.” She qualifies. 

“If I sleep, I’ll have a nightmare.” 

“Well, maybe not if it’s a drug induced sleep.” 

“If it’s a drug induced sleep, I won’t be able to wake myself up.” 

“I’ll be here for you.” She says softly. 

“That’s great, Baby, but I won’t be able to wake up to avail myself of your attempts to calm me down.” 

“I just really think you need to rest and you can’t shut your mind off long enough to do it.” 

I run a hand down my face. I’m frustrated right now, but it’s not her fault. She’s only ever seen bits and pieces of one of these episodes. She’s never witnessed the entire thing. 

“All right, but drugging the shit out of me isn’t going to make it go away, Donna.” I say. “These things, unfortunately, have to run their course. You can’t put me to sleep for the duration of it.” 

“That’s not what I want to do, Josh.” She says softly. “I am more concerned about your heart rate right now than all the other stuff. You HAVE to calm down, Josh, or they’re going to keep you even longer.” 

I’m not convinced this is the best course of action, but if it’ll make her feel better to try it, then I’ll do it. 

I sigh and nod. She kisses me then rings for the nurse. 

I’m not worried about my heart rate. Yeah, it’s high, but I think it’ll go down when this episode passes. For crying out loud, ANYONE’S heart rate would be up after the day I’ve had, but Donna’s freaking out, and I can’t have that. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Margaret must not be at her desk because she’d kill me for picking up my own ringing phone, but since I’m the one that’s supposed to be in charge… 

“McGarry.” 

“Tell me right now you’re not firing Josh.” 

“What?” 

“You told him as long as you’ve got a job, he’s got a job. Swear to me you’re not firing him, Leo.” 

“Donna?” 

“Who the hell else would it be?!” 

Okay. I’ll give her that. She got shot at and she doesn’t work for me anymore. 

“I’m not firing Josh.” I drone. 

“Is the President?” 

Oooh. Is she a politician’s wife or what? 

“No.” 

“You promise?” 

“Yes.” 

“A real promise or a politician’s promise?” 

“Donna…” I warn. 

“Leo, he thinks the Presidential ordered time off to soften the ground for his resignation.” She blurts. 

“It’s not.” I assure. “It’s just time off because he went through a stressful experience. One that’s stressful enough for people like you and me, but Josh reacts to this stuff differently. If he was going to have a problem, the President wanted him to be in the safety, comfort and privacy of his home with his family and not going back and forth to the White House. He made the decision before what’s-her-name went on t.v.” 

She pauses there. I think she’s surprised I explained myself so much. 

“Will you tell him that?” 

“Put him on the phone.” 

“I can’t right now. He’s finally sleeping. When he wakes up again, I’ll have him call you.” 

“All right then.” I pause for a minute before continuing. “How is he?” 

I feel a little weird discussing this kind of stuff with Donna. I mean, I’ve always used her as his barometer, but it’s still kinda weird. We’ve always had a different relationship with him and to be honest, Donna’s a sweet girl, but I don’t always know how to relate to her. Her first loyalty is and always has been to Josh. Not good when you work, or worked in her case, for the President of the United States, but on some level, I’ve always respected that in her. 

“Well, he’s afraid he’s going to lose his job, but otherwise he’s hanging on.” 

“Is he?” 

“He could really use these few days off, I won’t lie to you.” She says. “But he’ll be all right when he comes back.” 

“If he needs more, Donna…” 

“I know.” 

“And if the needs anything at all…” 

“I know, Leo. Thanks.” 

“Take care of him, kid, and keep me posted.” 

“Okay. And thanks, Leo.” 

I hang up the phone and smile a bit. I may not always know how to relate to Donna, but ever since Noah died, I’ve had a soft spot for her. She’s just always read Josh so well. He’s a lucky guy. 

TBC


	11. Murphy's Law

“Dadadada” I wake up groggily to the sound of my son calling for me. It puts a smile on my face before I even open my eyes. Then I feel his wet kiss on my cheek. 

“Noah…” I put my arms around him and just enjoy the feeling of him in my arms. When I get my eyes open I see Donna watching us with tears in her eyes. “Morning.” 

“Morning. How do you feel?” 

“Sleepy.” I smile wanly. “And happy to be holding this one.” 

“Ainsley said he’d been signing for us since he woke up.” Donna tells me. “She and Sam are downstairs getting some breakfast.” 

“How are you?” I ask her. She’s cradling her arm in a strange way. 

“Okay. It’s throbbing a bit…my wrist.” She adds like I don’t know what she means. 

“Are they giving you something for it?” I ask. Duh, we’re in a hospital and she has a broken wrist. Why is our conversation so stilted? 

“Yes, I’m on pain meds. My heads a little fuzzy from them.” She admits but her eyes skitter away from mine. 

“Donna? What’s wrong?” 

“Nothing.” She’s quick to smile. “Your blood pressure and heart rate are both back to normal.” 

“That’s quite a feat considering I was sleeping.” I say sarcastically and Noah signs for food. “Noah’s hungry. Is there anything here for him?” 

“I have a sippy cup with some milk. Sam and Ainsley are bringing up some food for us.” Donna calls Noah’s name and that signs ‘wait’ to him. She’s fidgeting again. 

“Donna, what aren’t you telling me?” I ask point blank. I’m really too exhausted to play these games right now. 

“I don’t want you to get upset.” She prefaces her comment. Great, I can already feel the tension rising. 

“Please just tell me.” I request. 

“I called Leo.” Donna begins. “I just wanted him to confirm that you were not being shown the door; so you could relax about it.” 

“Donna!” My loud response startles our son. “Sorry, buddy. Donna, why did you do that?” 

“You were so concerned about it and that made me all concerned about it. I thought if I just got the straight scoop from Leo, everyone could relax.” 

“Do you know how…pathetic that makes me look? That I had my wife call the White House to beg for my job?” 

“That’s not what I did.” She insists. “I didn’t beg for anything! I simply asked Leo if this was a ploy to soften the ground for your resignation. Now do you want to hear what he had to say, or are you just going to lie there and pout?” 

“I do not pout.” 

She just continues to look at me with her eyebrows raised. 

“Fine. Tell me what he said.” 

“He said sometimes a cigar is just a cigar.” 

“And I’m the cigar in this metaphor?” I ask in confusion. I adore my wife. I truly do, but sometimes her conversational leaps could win an Olympic medal. 

“No, the 3 day leave is the cigar. They just want to give you the time you need to get back on your feet without the added stress of work. In fact, the President gave the order for you to take the leave BEFORE Lisa the moron made her impromptu announcement. I ran into her this morning, by the way. She wants me to thank you for saving her life and I’m also supposed to tell you that she didn’t mean to out you on national television. That’s a direct quote.” 

That makes me laugh. “Of course it is. I’m not trying to tell you how to run Sam’s office, but she really needs to go, Donna.” 

“She’s on a flight back to Orange County later today. Apparently, interning for a Congressman wasn’t quite what she expected it to be.” 

“Good news all around. If only she’d left yesterday as soon as we got out of there.” 

“Josh…You have the President and Leo behind you. It’s going to be okay.” Her solemn eyes tell me she’s confident about this, but I’ve seen more politics than she’s read about. I’m going to be eviscerated and then I’ll be useless to the President. Maybe I can hit Sam up for a job. “Josh?” 

“About time you got up Sleeping Beauty.” Sam says from the doorway. “I come baring gifts of breakfast and emails.” 

“Emails?” I repeat. 

“Turns out you’re quite the hero; risking life and limb to protect Matt and me.” Sam waves sheets and sheets of paper at me. “Matt gave an interview last night, on pain meds I might add, and he was waxing pretty poetic.” 

Noah grabs a couple from Sam and starts waving them around in delight. I manage to pluck one out of his little hand and I’m astonished by what I read. This guy, Martin from Ohio, wrote that his brother came back from serving with PTSD so he’s seen first hand how debilitating it can be. He wants to commend me for my courage in saving the intern and putting my life on the line for my friends. Hmmm. 

I trade that paper for another one in Noah’s fist. It’s crumpled now, but I can still read it. This one’s from Jenny in Michigan, who interned on the hill last year. She’s telling the President that he better not even consider accepting my resignation because the kind of valor I showed yesterday was inspirational and she only wishes there were more public servants like Sam and me. Then she goes on to say nice things about Sam too, but I skip over that part and move on to the next one, and the next one, and the next one. 

Noah is now happily munching on the breakfast that was delivered to him. I read email after email before looking up at Sam. 

“We’re going to weather this.” He tells me and I smirk. 

“Is that the royal ‘we’?” I ask. 

“It’s the collective ‘we’ you dumbass.” He mutters just as the doctor comes in. 

“Well, Mr. Lyman, you seem to be doing much better this morning.” He says. “Think you’re ready to go home?” 

Noah seizes on the word and signs ‘home’ over and over. 

“More than ready.” I tell him. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 

I can’t believe I’m standing out here nervous about knocking on the door of my Deputy Chief of Staff. Maybe it’s because I’m not coming here as his boss. Anyway, I let out a deep sigh before I ring the doorbell and wait the agonizingly long seconds before Donna answers the door. 

“Leo!” She exclaims. “You made it. Come on in.” She sends me a look of concern and I try to convey that everything’s fine with my expression, but it falls short because her forehead just gets more scrunchy. Just then, Noah comes careening around the corner and runs full blast into me. He’s walking, er running I guess, early, but then this kid being an overachiever is really no surprise. 

“Whoa! Where are you in such a hurry to go young man?” I pick him up in arms that haven’t held a child this size in quite awhile. “Where’s your dad?” 

“Dadadada.” Noah responds and wiggles to get down from my arms. Once on the ground, he goes tearing through the house, presumably in search of his father. 

“Just follow the rocket man. Josh is out on the porch reading the paper. I’m going to grab some lemonade. Would you like some?” She asks. 

“That would be great, thanks.” I do as she tells me and follow Noah’s trail to the back porch. They’ve got a real nice place here. It’s got a fenced in yard with mature trees. It looks like they’re in the middle of a preserve even though they’re still technically in the city. It’s very calming. This is what home and family have brought to Josh; peace. 

I’m very envious of him in a lot of respects. I blew it with Jenny and there were plenty of reasons for that, but one of them was that there was no balance in my life. Josh has discovered balance already. And Donna is there to enforce it. They’re a good team. 

“Bah. Bah!” Noah shouts. 

“We just played ball, buddy. Let Daddy finish this op/ed and then we’ll play some more. Wait.” He signs without looking up. “Donna, did you see what this blowhard Davis wrote in the Times?” 

“I don’t pay any attention to Davis. You shouldn’t either.” 

“Leo!” Josh gets up to greet me and I’m enveloped in a man’s version of a hug. “This is a surprise.” 

“Well I was going to stop and see you in the hospital yesterday, but by the time I was able to get over there, you’d already been sent home.” I explain but he waves it off. 

“They were just keeping an eye on my stats. I’m fine.” He hastens to assure me. Noah throws a ball that ends up beaning his father on the head. I stifle a chuckle. “I told you to wait, you little stinker.” Josh picks up his son and tackles him onto the loveseat before tickling him crazily. 

“Ball. Say ‘ball’.” Josh instructs him. 

“Bah” Noah echoes. 

“Close enough.” Josh laughs and hands the Nerf ball back to his son. “Let’s play ball.” Josh sits him on the floor and they throw the ball back and forth in what appears to be a very familiar activity. 

“What did I say about the ball in the porch?” Donna asks as she comes in with a wheeled tray filled with glasses and a pitcher of lemonade. I get up to help her push it across the room to save her from the trouble of pushing it one handed. 

“Aw, come on, Mom.” Josh teases. 

“Mamamama” Noah echoes again. 

“Not on the porch.” Donna remains steadfast. 

“It’s just a nerf ball.” Josh points out. “You’re so mean.” Josh makes a mad face and crosses his arms in front of his chest. Noah mimics the move perfectly. This time my laugh slips out and I earn a glare from Donna. 

“We have a wonderful backyard for playing ball. Not in the porch.” Donna repeats and hands me a glass of lemonade. 

“Thanks Donna.” I tell her and take a sip. 

“You’re welcome. Now Master Noah, it is time for you to take a rest.” Noah both shakes his head and signs ‘no’. I imagine there are times they regret teaching this child how to ‘speak’ before he can say a word. “Yes, it’s time.” Donna insists. “If you come with me now, we can read ‘Go Dog, Go’.” 

Noah scrambles to his feet and takes the bait like a starving trout. Donna leans him first toward Josh and then me, for him to give us a kiss goodbye. The kid is damn adorable; the spitting image of his father at that age. God, the bragging Noah Lyman senior would be doing right now…Which leads me back to Josh. 

“What’s up, Leo?” He asks quietly and takes a sip of his lemonade, wishing, I’m sure, that it was a cold beer instead. 

“Donna told you about our conversation the other day?” I ask out of form. Of COURSE she told him about our conversation already. He nods. “I thought it was a topic the two of us should cover face to face.” 

“Look, I didn’t ask her to call you, Leo.” He hastens to add. 

“Do you think I don’t know that already?” I laugh. “You’ve never been one to hide behind anyone’s skirts; and certainly not about something like this. Still, I think we ought to talk about it.” 

“If the President wants me to resign, I’ll write it out right now.” 

“God, would you stop that? Nobody’s talking about you resigning except you.” Leo lost his patience with his Deputy. 

“Then I’m the only rational one in the bunch.” Josh retorts. “The wave of public opinion is riding high right now because everyone is relieved this story had a happy ending.” Josh stops and leans forward toward me, his arms resting on the top of his legs. “But when the bubble bursts, as they always do, then the reality that the President has a Deputy Chief of Staff suffering from a mental/emotional disorder is going to sink in, Leo. You know it is. Then how am I going to do the President’s business on the hill? Who’s going to want to work with me on anything?...The Republicans are going to line up to take whacks at me and they will continue the beating until there is nothing left. It’s only a matter of time.” 

“Listen to me, son. Your boss has a record of drug and alcohol abuse. His boss had M.S. and didn’t tell anyone. You think a little thing like PTSD is gonna be the death of us? Your father would kick your ass right now for even talking like that.” Josh jolts at the mention of his father. Good, I hope it jolted him right out of this negative tailspin he’s in. 

“Now that doesn’t mean we don’t have work to do.” I warn him. “You’re right. The bubble will burst so what we want to do is shore up support now. Get as many members of Congress, on both sides of the aisle, on the record in support of your staying in the post the President appointed you to. C.J. is working on that, but part of her plan is going to require that you do some press events. Are you up for that?” 

I watch his face carefully as he mulls the idea over. “You’re banking on the fact that if I’m sitting across the table from them on Meet the Press or Capitol Beat they aren’t going to be able to question my abilities because my positives are so high right now.” 

I nod. Does this kid know his stuff or what? “Not just you. Sam and Matt have already signed up.” Now he grins a devilish grin. 

“Of course they have.” He acknowledges. 

“Speaking of which…” This is going to be the tricky part. Getting Josh to do the political roundtables and fight the good fight is a piece of cake; although sometimes he turns into a loose cannon there. Getting him to talk to ANYONE about personal issues, well, besides Donna, is like herding cats. 

“No.” 

“You haven’t even heard what I have to say yet.” I protest. 

“I’m not doing any ‘woe is me’ weepy interview with Barbara Walters.” 

“Is it simply the Barbara Walters part you object to cause I was thinking more like Mike Wallace.” I offer and he chuckles. 

“Leo…I’m not going to lie to you. The last couple days have been rough; really rough. If I didn’t have Donna and Noah…It’s not simply that I don’t want to do it. I don’t think I can do it.” He tells me. Well hell. 

“All of us think it could go a long way to helping the public understand PTSD better and by putting a human face to it, we’d rob the Republicans of their opportunity use it as a weapon.” 

“Are you ordering me to do it?” He asks. What? Does he think I’m some kind of heartless son of a bitch?...On second thought, I’d better not ask him THAT. 

“I’m your boss in political matters, Josh. I’m not going to order you around in your personal decisions.” He gives me a sardonic grin. “Generally, I try to stay out of your personal decisions…except when you screw them up…or bring them into the White House…and a few other times I guess.” Now I’m grinning too. 

“Well, as long as we understand each other.” He says. 

“A sit down on 60 minutes, with you, Matt, Sam, and Donna.” I flush it out. 

“Whoa! Nobody said anything about Donna.” Josh literally stands up for her. “She’s not a part of the deal. She doesn’t even work at the White House anymore.” 

“She works for Sam and was involved in the hostage crisis. And who knows better than Donna what the effects of the PTSD are?” I point out. 

“No!” Josh slashes his hand through the air between us. “That’s not negotiable. Donna isn’t going to be dragged through this again because of me.” 

“Don’t you think that’s a decision for me to make, Joshua?” Donna asks from the doorway. The woman is stealthy, I swear. I think my work here is done. 

“I won’t take up any more of your time. The President wanted me to tell you that if you need more time, you’ve only to let him know. He wants you back in your office, but he doesn’t want you there until you’re ready. I’ll see myself out.” He nods at me but he’s looking at Donna. 

“Thanks for coming by, Leo.” She tells me and kisses my cheek. I just want to get out of here before the shit hits the fan. Professional politics is one thing. Marital discord is quite another. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 

I wait until I hear the front door close, and then I take a leisurely seat next to Josh and pour myself some lemonade. 

“So…” I let it trail off and wait for him to jump in. It doesn’t take long. 

“I’m not subjecting you to some soul searching interview about what we went through and how PTSD affects our lives.” 

“You’re not subjecting me to anything, besides your male chauvinist pig tendencies.” I take a sip of the cool drink. 

“It’s chauvinistic to want to protect my wife?” See how he’s trying to reframe the argument. Damn, he’s good. He can’t quit his job. 

“No, that part’s sweet. It’s chauvinistic to make a decision for your wife without consulting her because you think you know best.” I correct him. 

“I do know-“ He starts. 

“Ah, ah, ahhhhh.” I wag my finger at him. “That’s how the trouble started the other day, remember?” I can see that he does because he immediately looks contrite. If we hadn’t felt bad before about our pre-hostage fight, the life threatening experience we went through drove it all home…for both of us. 

“You’re right. I’m sorry.” He says. 

“Could you wait until I get my camcorder and then repeat that, please?” I ask and set the lemonade down on the side table. He takes my hand and pulls me to him until I’m snuggled into his side with my arms around him. 

“Smart ass.” He mutters. “I am sorry, Donna. I guess after so many years of being partners, it just kills me to be on opposite sides of an issue with you.” 

“I’m not on an opposite side from you, Josh. For that matter, neither is Sam. This isn’t personal, it’s professional. We both need to take care that we don’t mix those two up again. When those shots rang out and I realized you were in the building, all I could think about was that the last words I spoke to you were in anger. I don’t ever want to be in that position again.” 

“You’re telling me.” He drawls and I punch his shoulder for old times’ sake. “I’ll try to separate the two. But I’d like to point out that I made an appointment to see Sam just like you asked me to, and I had lunch reservations for us that day to try to make it up to you.” 

Now I smile even though he can’t see my face. Josh has really come a long way. He’s an amazing father and he’s getting the hang of the marriage dynamics…most of the time. 

“So noted. Now about the group interview.” He moans but I ignore him. “I’d like to do the interview, but if you feel that strongly about it, I won’t.” 

“Why?” 

“Because I respect your opinion.” 

“No, why do you want to do the interview?” 

“Because as scary as the whole episode was, I saw you and your friends stand up for each other and risk life and limb for each other over and over. I saw the man I love, despite his personal demons, stand between his friends and a gunman, and I want the world to know that story.” There’s a long pause while I let that sink in. 

“You’re just worried that if I lose my job, we’re going to have to live on your salary, which will mean considerably less shoes for you, right?” 

“Yes, that’s exactly what I’m worried about, Josh. How perceptive of you.” I tell him sarcastically. He chuckles. 

“I’ll think about it. We should both think about it some more before you go ahead and agree for both of us anyway.” Josh tells me and now I chuckle. 

“Deal.” I seal the deal with a kiss and he seems to like that form of deal sealing because it continues for quite awhile. “You know…I’m sure Noah is sound asleep by now.” 

“Not that I’m averse to your implication, but with your wrist…” 

“I’m so good, I only need one hand.” I assure him and his eyes bug out. “But if it makes you feel better, you can do most of the work.” 

“Anything for you Donnatella.” He smiles and proves that he can take the responsibility. 

TBC


	12. Murphy's Law

You know, I will admit to a certain amount of geek like qualities, not so loud for Donna or Sam to hear it, but between you and me they exist. I mean, I went to Harvard and Yale, I didn’t date in high school and college because I wanted to do this, and so I spent a lot of time studying, and I’m okay with that. Especially, since look at the girl I got in the end. 

But the reason I bring it up is because I’m about the say something to you that is reflective of the biggest geek around. 

The President. 

I have to say, between you and me, that one of the sounds I love is laughter between friends. Despite the absolute hell of the last week, here we are sitting around a table having dinner and laughing. It’s mostly Matt and Mike making fun of me, but I’m okay with that. They’re telling Donna, Sam and Ainsley stories. 

It’s getting pretty late, but Zoey’s hanging out with Noah, probably at the White House by now, if the President had his way, and with the White House Deputy Chief of Staff and two Congressmen sitting at this table, 1789 isn’t about to kick us out. Every restaurant in D.C. that’s half-way decent wants to able to boast that it’s a hot spot for who’s who in Washington and Donna loves the joint, so I’m here a lot. 

We just did that ridiculous joint interview for 60 Minutes. And yes, I let Donna do it, too. So now we’re here at dinner, making fun of what everyone said. Mike and Ainsley weren’t in the interview because the FBI doesn’t let it’s agents take curtain calls, though Mike really should, but they were both there watching. 

I for one don’t know how it’s really going to play, but I’m not really concerned. Mike may not have been on the set, but Donna didn’t stop talking about him. The story Donna told was very different than what Matt, Sam and especially I talked about. Donna talked about the things people do for their friends and how in her life, she never before witnessed such devotion and loyalty between friends. Right there in the Rayburn Building, in the middle of the most bi-partisan place on the planet were Matt and I doing all sorts of stupid things to try to get the other one out safely. 

It actually sounded relatively heroic, if I do say so myself. 

Mike said that he’s glad he wasn’t on camera because it made it sound like I was gay, too. Matt just rolled his eyes. I think the public perception is stilted of me at the moment anyway, so I don’t particularly care. 

Donna links her hand with mine under the table as she knocks back the rest of her glass of wine. She smiles brightly and me and throws a glance over to Sam and Ainsley and then back at me. I look over at the couple in question and they’re heads are close together, carrying on a conversation of their own. 

Sam told me that he was planning to propose to Ainsley at Christmas; Donna immediately followed that up with the fact that it was her idea. He wanted to do it now because he was given yet another strong reminder that sometimes you might not have as much time as you think you do, but he was afraid Ainsley’s ultraconservative father would think they weren’t together long enough. Sam’s got an uphill battle there, so I don’t blame him. 

“Will you come dance with me?” Donna leans over and asks me softly. 

“No. I want to see you go out there and slow dance by yourself.” I smirk. 

“Jooossshh…” she pouts. 

“Of course I’ll dance with you, Donna.” I laugh. 

I stand up before she does and gently pull her chair out for her, then take her uninjured hand in mine. Yeah, yeah, yeah, I know. I’m such a freaking gentleman. Donna loves this shit. Let it go. 

We join the other couples on the dance floor, of which there aren’t many, and I pull her close. She lays her head on my shoulder and closes her eyes, sighing contentedly. 

“It went well today.” She says. 

“We’ll see.” I reply. 

“What do you think about getting away for a little while?” she hedges. 

“What do you mean?” 

“A vacation.” 

“When?” 

“I don’t know. Soon. Talk to Leo and tell me. We’ll go away for a week; we’ll go wherever you want.” 

“Why wherever I want?” This is a surprise. 

“I don’t know.” She shrugs. “I just want to go away with you, it doesn’t really matter.” 

“We could take the time off and stay home.” 

“There’s still the chance of getting…interrupted.” 

Translation: I’m too accessible in D.C. 

“Okay. Let’s go to Boston.” I say on a whim. 

“Boston?” she scrunches up her face. “Any particular reason?” 

“I like it.” I shrug. “You said I could choose. Every time we go there for anything you always say you wish you could see more of it.” 

“True.” 

“I’ll show you my parents’ house in Connecticut.” 

“Your mother lives in Florida.” 

“But the house is in Connecticut.” I counter. 

“Why don’t we just…stay there?” she asks. 

“We could.” I say after a moment. 

“Yeah?” 

“Sure.” You know, now that she’s saying it, I really want her to see that house. I suddenly want to show her all my favorite places in Westport. Ever since my mother moved, I hadn’t been that inclined to go to Connecticut. I mean, it’s just a big empty house, but as soon as Donna showed an interest, suddenly I’m determined to bring her and Noah there. My sister and my father are buried up there and I have been to “see” them in a while. 

“Kay.” She smiles. “It’ll be fun to see where you grew up.” 

“I think you’re going to be surprised.” I say cringing a bit. I had a bit of a pampered upbringing that I’m told you’d never know about me unless you really knew me, which Donna does. 

“I’m glad you want to go home, Josh. I really want to see it.” 

She drops her head on my shoulder and I kiss her forehead. “You’re my home, Donna.” I whisper softly. 

Strange how I’ve lived in this city for about 20 years now and it never felt like “home” until Donna came into my life. It was where I lived, but I never thought I had a life here until she became a part of it. 

Most of my life has been lived according to Murphy’s Law. It just always seems to follow me. If it wasn’t for bad luck, I’d have no luck at all. 

But as I hold this amazing woman in my arms and know that she’s mine and always will be, I can’t but think… 

Sometimes things go right, too. 

THE END


End file.
